


King and Lionheart

by ineedacatalyst



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Lameness, M/M, Slash, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-13 09:44:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 35,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineedacatalyst/pseuds/ineedacatalyst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reincarnation isn't all it's cracked up to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, this can be found at FF.net under "ineedacatalyst"
> 
> This was my first SPN fic. I am not very proud of it, but some people liked it, so I figured I'd post it here.

Death.

All he could see around him was death.

The ground, where the earth had just opened its maw to swallow up his only remaining family, was still hot to the touch. A few feet away, the splattered remains of his guardian angel lay, and next to this fetid pile lay the body of his surrogate father, his neck twisted half away off his body, and his blank, lifeless eyes staring at the sky.

Dean tried to get up, but he couldn't. Physically and emotionally, he was pinned to the ground. He put one shaking hand to his face, feeling golf ball sized lumps forming where an archangel had punched him repeatedly. The blood coming from his cuts and bruises was hot and sticky. He realized that he couldn't see out of one eye and his head throbbed and things were fuzzy. He couldn't really comprehend where he was. He didn't know if this was because of what had just happened or if it was because he was concussed. He lay on the ground and stared at the sky, which was grey, cloudy and absent of any birds or light.

"Sammy." He muttered. "Oh god, Sammy."

It had j ust now occurred to him that his brother was in Hell. He thought back to his own Hell, and he imagined the flames licking his younger brother's face, the angry souls of Lucifer and Michael peeling off layers of skin to pay him back for trapping them both in the cage.

"Don't worry, Sammy, I'll get you out. I'll do whatever it takes. I swear." He mumbled nonsensically, talking to no one.

Dean crawled, because he wasn't sure he could stand, to the Impala which sat parked, miraculously untouched by Satan, Michael, or the guts of his guardian angel. He used the fender to pull himself up the front of the car, until he was resting on the hood. He saw his reflection in the window and audibly gasped. He looked exactly like he had just gotten the shit beaten out of him by the devil. He looked terrible. Bobby's corpse and Cas's guts looked better. He still couldn't see out of his right eye and he was pretty sure he might be blind. If only Cas would pop up and heal him…

Cas.

Bobby.

Everyone he loved was dead.

Dean lay on the hood of the Impala for awhile, wishing he were dead too. He had a gun. It wouldn't be hard to end it now. Hell, he'd welcome it. Except he wasn't sure where he'd go. He'd just averted the apocalypse, but the apocalypse had been the angels' plan all along, so there was a chance he'd never make it into heaven. If he went to Hell, at least he'd be with Sammy. Granted he wouldn't be in a circle of Hell near Lucifer's cage, but at least they'd share the same zip code. Bobby would be in heaven. His mom was in heaven. His dad probably was too. For a moment, he wished he could go there, be with them, safe, warm and surrounded by family. But then he'd have to live an eternity without Sam. He thought about Cas. He wasn't sure where fallen angels who turned human and then were exploded into a sea of guts by Lucifer went.

He lay there for a long time. Things kind of went black and he wasn't sure how much time passed. He was sure he had a concussion. He might just die here, if the concussion and his other injuries were bad enough. He thought about it. The first few times he died he had been so scared. Then he started looking at death as something he'd always come back from because some supernatural creature always decided that it was not yet his time. He was sure his time had been up a long time ago. Sammy's too. He didn't know what the penalty was for always cheating death. He didn't care. If he was punished for cheating his own death, fine. For Sammy's? Even better. As he lay there, he fantasized about ways he'd get Sam out of the pit. Right now, he didn't know how he'd do it. He was sure the angels hated him now for averting their apocalypse and for trapping their leader in the cage. They were the only ones he knew of who could pull souls out of Hell. Some demons could, maybe, but there were no demons that would bring Sam back. He was no longer valuable to them. Ruby and Lilith were dead, and there purposes for Sam had been evil, they could have potentially brought him back. He was no longer Lucifer's vessel. Although Dean couldn't admit it out loud, he knew that there was nothing powerful enough that would want Sam to get out of Hell. Sure, the angels and demons might bring him back if Lucifer was attached, but Dean knew that was a price that Sam would kill him for making them pay.

Slowly but surely, Dean sat up. He couldn't see. He was possibly dying. He knew he had to get to a hospital. He struggled to get into the Impala where his cell phone was. When he finally got into the car and had his cell phone, he just stared at it for awhile, hesitant to call for help. There were guts everywhere, Bobby's corpse was there and Sam and Lucifer were gone. He didn't think he had the strength to move Bobby's corpse. He wanted to give Bobby a hunter's funeral, but he didn't have it in him right now. He couldn't imagine moving Bobby and he certainly couldn't imagine burning him.

He had no idea what to do. The truth was that he didn't know if he even had it in him to do anything. He wanted to be dead. He had no reason to live. Sam had told him to go to Lisa and Ben, but he couldn't do this to them. If they saw him like this, they would be terrified, and there was always some nasty thing out in the dark that wanted to kill him. If he went to them, those nasty things would want to kill them too. He couldn't do that to them. He couldn't inflict his diseased, disastrous life upon them. He would get them killed. They would be dead just like everyone else he loved.

He thought about praying. He might believe in God now, but he certainly didn't trust him. God had cursed the Winchesters, God had created the angels that had brought him into this apocalypse and then forsaken those angels, and God had taken a vacation and never come back. God was a deadbeat dad. God didn't give a fuck. God was an asshole.

Dean rested his head on the steering wheel. He had no fucking idea what to do. It was over and he had no clue what his next move was. He didn't have it in him to call 911. So he did the only thing he could think to do. He gave up.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean awoke in an unfamiliar, dark place.

_I'm dead. I didn't make it through the fight. Or I died in the Impala. It's over… it's finally over. And I'm in Hell._

He cried out, convinced, almost relieved that he was dead, that the fight was over, and that he was in Hell. After all, this is where he belongs: back on the rack. He never should have been pulled out in the first place. It was unnatural and he couldn't even save Sam, even if the two of them had saved the world. He didn't deserve the world and to him, the world didn't matter without Sam. He opened his eyes. Somewhat miraculously, he could see out of both of them.

_Of course I can._ He reasoned.

He was sure he was in Hell and they'd restore his sight. After all, they'd want him to witness all the horrible things they would do to his body, to his soul.

"Bring it on, you assholes!" He yelled. Any second now, he was sure the torment would begin.

"Dean! Dean!" A distance voice yelled. "Look at me!"

Dean came out of his 'fantasy' with a start. His eyes focused and he saw a familiar face was staring down at him. He saw ruddy, stubbly cheeks, clear, sapphire-blue eyes, and a full mouth contorted in a grimace.

_Castiel._

_Why aren't I dead? Why is Cas here?_

"Dean, do you recognize me? Is your brain working?" Cas asked, staring down at him, looking genuinely perplexed.

Dean sat up slowly. He couldn't believe it. Was he in Heaven? Was he dreaming? Was he ALIVE?

"Cas? What… what is going on?" He asked. "Where am I? Why are you here? I saw you die… I saw Bobby die… Sam is gone… Cas… how are… What the fuck is going on?"

He stared at Castiel. He looked around and realized that he was in a hotel room that he had never seen before. He was lying on a bed and Cas was standing above him.

"How are you here?" He asked weakly. "Am I dead?"

"You are not dead, Dean, and neither are am I." Cas said seriously. "I found you in the Impala in the graveyard… unconscious… bleeding from various wounds on your face, your head swollen to a very large size. I believe there may have been some kind of brain damage. I brought you back here to heal you. I feared there were things in the graveyard that wanted to kill you. I sensed them all over."

"You're… you again?" Dean mumbled, rubbing his face. Sure enough the blood and the bruises were gone. Not to mention that his head was clear and he could see out of his right eye. Sure enough, Cas had healed him. He was good as new.

"Yes, I am. I was restored. I am… an angel of the Lord again." He said, still looking bewildered.

"Where's Bobby? Did you save him?" Dean asked.

Cas looked at him soberly. "Dean… by the time I came back… by the time I was me again, Bobby was gone. His body I mean… I searched for it, I even tried to see if I could still sense him… but there was nothing. Bobby is dead and I don't know where his body is or what took it."

"Why is this happening?" He asked.

"I… have no idea. I am still not sure why am here. I was dead, Dean. I was guts on the ground." Cas muttered. "I am not even… fully restored, not to my full power. I cannot teleport, at least not yet. I do not hear my brothers and sisters. I was amazed that I could heal you. My grace… well, much of it is gone. I had to drive here. It was… well, it was terrifying."

"Bobby?" Dean whispered. "Who took Bobby?"

"I don't know, Dean, I'm sorry. If I was myself… I could tell you. I could tell you why any of this is happening. We will find out, I promise. I will get you answers. We will find Bobby. We will bring him back. And we will get Sam out of the hole."

_Sammy._

Sam was still dead. Sam was still in Hell. Bobby was gone. Bobby was dead. Some unknown evil had taken his body. Cas was back, but if he was driving, he was half an angel, even weaker than he had been when was falling and cut off from heaven. Cas had no idea what was going on. There were things in the graveyard that wanted to kill him. He still irrevocably alone, except now, things were stealing his friends' bodies and bringing angels back to life.

Did he really want to be here? Is this what he wanted?

"Dean?" Cas asked cautiously, staring at him. He sat down on the bed next to him. He placed his hand on his shoulder and shook him gently.

"Sammy." He whispered. "Sam is gone."

Cas sat on the bed next to Dean. He rested his hand on Dean's shoulder.

"We'll get him back." He said again, his voice sounding like rocks and glass.

Dean wasn't fully there. It was like some kind of dam had broken in his mind. He thought that the dam had broken when he almost said yes to Michael, but no, at least then he still had Sam, still had Bobby, still had some sense of sanity. Right now all he could think about was dead bodies, Hell, and putting his pistol in his mouth. The sense of euphoria he had felt at giving up, at accepting death was gone. He didn't want to feel this way, but he did.

"Dean? DEAN! Look at me." Cas said. "I promise you, you are not alone and we will get through this."

"Sammy told me to go to Lisa and Ben, Cas. Should I? Is that what I should do?" Dean asked the angel.

Castiel looked a little annoyed when he said Lisa's name. He shook his head.

"Dean… right now you shouldn't be around a child, especially if there is something else out there. I'm not trying to be 'up your ass' or 'in your personal space' telling you what to do, but I sensed something bad in the graveyard. And you are not yourself… that woman and her child don't need to see you like this." He said.

"You're right, Cas. You're the only one who tells it like it is. You're the only one who will admit I'm poison, through and through. All of us, Winchesters, we're cursed. We're poison." He muttered.

"Dean, you know that's not what I meant. You are not poison. You are a brave man who just lost his brother in unimaginable circumstances. I can feel it coming off you in waves. You want to die, right? That's what I meant what I said they don't need to see you like this." Cas said.

"What about this thing that got out? Won't it ever stop, Cas, is it ever going to stop?" He asked brokenly. "We stop the apocalypse and something worse gets out? What the hell was it? And what brought you back? What took Bobby's body? Why can't I just stop fucking fighting for ONE DAY and mourn my brother?" He cried.

"I don't know what it was, Dean, I have no idea why I am here, I don't know where Bobby is… I hate to admit this, because I usually know almost everything, but I don't know what this is." Cas said.

"Big help you are, Cas." Dean muttered.

Cas didn't object. In fact, he seemed embarrassed. He looked away, out the window, avoiding Dean's gaze. Cas wasn't all seeing, all knowing, but he was a freaking  _ANGEL OF THE LORD_ , and one of the most powerful creatures that Dean had ever met in his 25 years of hunting. Angels were the soldiers of God, and capable of more power than anything else in the known UNIVERSE, yet here he was with one who appeared to have the power equivalent to a magician at a child's birthday party.

Dean thought about where he was, trying to get clarity on his situation. He was in some unknown motel room with an angel who had rebelled against Heaven, turned human, gotten killed, been restored, but not into a human, but not quite into an angel, and his brother was in Hell, his parents were dead, and now something else wanted to kill him and his guardian angel was clueless. A clueless angel who couldn't teleport and was scared of driving a car was almost as useless as a broken man with no will to live.

"We will find whatever this is, Dean… and we will bring Sam and Bobby back. This I swear to you. This will be better, Dean." He said in a determined voice. It was the second or third time he had said this, like it was his new mantra. Yet he couldn't say how the two of them would do any of this.

Dean stared at the angel. He looked frighteningly human right now. He was sweating and nervous and he kept biting his lip, which was a habit he seemed to pick up ever since he was brought back from the dead. Even when Cas had been human, he hadn't seemed like it. He had healed Dean when Dean had no desire to be saved. He had lost Bobby's body. Dean knew he couldn't bend time, hell, he didn't even know if he could bend spoons. Then he realized that the reason Cas was so determined to keep him here, so determined to go after the "something" in the graveyard is that Cas no longer had a mission, had no idea why he was here and for the first time in his existence, he had no idea what he was fighting or if he even needed to be fighting. Cas had no fucking clue and THAT was the miracle here. Cas had always had a mission and without one, he was lost.

Finally Dean spoke, "Are you sure there's anything to fight? Are you sure you 'felt' something? Buddy, you just said it yourself, you're clueless. You don't even know why you're alive. You're so sure that something is after us, but you don't know what it is. And what can you even do?" Dean said.

Cas stood up. "I just healed you, Dean. I can still do that." He muttered.

"I didn't want to be healed. I didn't want to be saved. I just want this over." He said.

"You don't mean that. You will recover. As will I." Cas said resolutely.

"Cas, reason with me, what can you do? Why are you here? What can you do? What are you?" He said.

"I am… an angel of the lord. I am not fully restored because I exploded and I was human. My grace will recover." He said, his voice wavering.

"You said no angel radio, right? And Cas, except when you were human, when have you been unable to teleport? And tell me… how long did it take you to heal me? And since when are you, of all angels, clueless about who's performing the miracles?" Dean asked.

"I can't hear them. I am cut off from Heaven. Just like I was before, after I rebelled. I am just weak right now and so are you. That's why we need to take some time before we jump back into the fight. That's why I ran from the graveyard." He said, evading all of the other questions.

Watching Cas say all this, Dean realized that Cas had no confidence that his abilities would return. He felt sick. Seeing an angel this nervous, this unsure made him feel a hell of a lot worse about his own chances.

"Cas. I'm glad you're alive." Dean said. It's all he could say. He didn't feel so good about anything else.

Castiel didn't say anything and Dean still felt like dying. He knew he was being cruel, but Cas's new go-getter attitude was really bothering him. Cas had never been an optimist and that was something that Dean liked about him. Him talking about bringing Bobby and Sam back, about fighting some new evil, gaining back his access to Heaven, well, Dean knew Cas was putting up a front. The angel might have been able to sense Dean's general hatred toward life and himself right now, but Dean could sense things too. Cas was wearing this new attitude, this fake face because he was terrified and bewildered; cut off from heaven and his full divine powers. Just like Dean, he was cut off from everything that had made him who he was. Dean's mission had been protecting Sammy and saving the world. Cas's mission had been to serve God and to stop the apocalypse. Now all of these things were gone. They really were two peas in a pod right now. They both had no purpose. No reason to live. No idea why they were still here.


	3. Chapter 3

Over the next few days, they attempted a few spells to locate Bobby's body, but to no avail. Dean took to a spirit board to try to contact Bobby's spirit, even Sam's spirit, however far gone it might be, and received no response. Cas attempted to teleport but just ended up standing there with the same contorted, angry look on his face every time he failed. Cas tried to communicate with Jimmy's soul, but Jimmy was sleeping, or dead, or just ignoring him. Cas, in his desperation, attempted to summon the one or two angels who might not want him dead and they ignored him too. Cas prayed and tried to get Dean to pray with him, but he wouldn't, couldn't; he still thought God was an asshole. Mostly they sat around the hotel room, reading Bobby's useless books. After all, spells were useless if they just wouldn't work. Mostly Dean moped and drank whiskey. After five days, Cas was convinced that it wasn't God who brought him back, wasn't the angels, but some freaky transference thing with Lucifer, or the "evil presence" he'd felt in the graveyard, which he was resolved against returning to, probably because it was where he had exploded. It made no sense whatsoever. The truth was that he had no answers, he was grasping at straws. Finally, Cas broke too.

"Why am I here? Why am I here?" Cas asked the ceiling in the hotel desperately. "Father, if it were you, I could go home, I could help people, I could see my brothers and sisters. But it wasn't you, was it? Please, father, I need a sign."

"The ceiling isn't going to answer your questions, Cas. There is no God. Remember what Uriel said, what Raphael and Michael said? God's dead. Or at least he's a deadbeat Dad who isn't paying Cas's baby mama any child support." Dean said sarcastically, taking a huge swig from a bottle of Wild Turkey. It was his third in five days and it was almost gone.

Once again, Dean knew he was being an asshole, but he was getting sick of Cas's praying. He missed Cas's misplaced sense of optimism, however fake it was.

"I have no idea why I am here. My father wouldn't have brought me back without some sense of purpose." Cas said. "I must have been brought back to help you get Sam back… after all, someone who willingly goes with Lucifer into Hell deserves to be saved."

"That's a load of bullshit, and you know it. God wouldn't want to save ANYONE who let Lucifer overtook his body, even if it was with good intentions. You know, the path to hell is paved with them, and all." Dean said, chuckling a little bit.

_God, I'm actually drunk._ He thought.  _You have to be drunk to laugh at a joke that horrible._

Cas growled,  _growled_ and came over to the armchair where Dean was seated with his whiskey and his useless books and spirit board and picked him up by his throat. Dean gasped, dropping the bottle the floor while he choked for air.

"How about you quit drinking, complaining and try to help me FIX THIS?" He hissed, staring ice-blue daggers into Dean's eyes.

"CAS, are you crazy? Put me down. PUT ME DOWN." He choked.

Cas dropped him on the floor. "You are selfish, self-loathing and have no respect for me whatsoever, do you Dean Winchester?" He growled again. "I brought you back from Hell, gave up Heaven for you, and was torn apart by Lucifer for you, yet nothing matters to you but your pathetic need to self destruct."

With one swift motion, Castiel swiveled on his heel and stomped out of the hotel room. It still was strange that he couldn't just zap out of there.

Lying on the floor, still choking for air, Dean thought about his guardian angel. As the days passed, Castiel was looking and acting more human. His eyes were red, ringed with black circles. He looked gaunt, as if not eating for 3000 years, save for 100 cheeseburgers here and there, was finally beginning to affect him. As far as Dean knew, angels didn't get black circles, nor did their vessels lose weight. Sure, humans couldn't easily heft a guy his size out of a chair, nor could they heal his wounds, but Cas almost seemed more human than angel these days. Maybe that's why his desperation and anger were so palpable. Most people would be grateful to be brought back from the dead, but Cas wasn't most people. He needed a purpose. He needed answers. Without them, he was dangerous.

Dean groaned in pain, rubbing his throat where Castiel had grabbed him.

"I really have to stop picking on the nerd angel." He muttered to himself, remembering his epic ass kicking from just last month.

He hoisted himself up the ground and walked out of the hotel room. Cas couldn't have gotten far, or at least he didn't think he could have. The whole not being able to teleport thing was really putting them on even ground when it came to speed. Dean thought about getting into the Impala to look for him, but then he remembered that all he had really consumed in the last week was whiskey. Then he saw that it wouldn't have mattered either way, because the Impala was gone. Cas had driven away in it.

"Asshole!" He screamed.

It was one thing to choke him, one thing to kick his ass until he was a bloody pulp, but another thing  _entirely_ to hijack his car. Dean pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed Castiel's number.

"Cas, answer your damn phone!" He yelled into the receiver.

Of course, he didn't. Cas barely knew how to operate the cell phone and he sure as hell wouldn't want to talk to Dean right now anyway.

"Cas, you better get back here with my fucking car! If anything happens to her, I'll make you wish God hadn't brought you back to life!" He screamed into Cas's voicemail.

Dean hung up the phone and started walking. It occurred to him that he hadn't left the hotel in days. He hadn't really eaten, slept, had (admittedly) not showered too many times, and he probably reeked of whiskey and Axe body spray. He felt a sudden urge to need to get away as possible from the cramped, depressing place that had been his home for the last week . He decided to find a bar, since his bottle had broken when Cas had nearly choked him to death.

After walking a few blocks, not paying too much attention, steam coming from his ears, Dean found a suitable dive bar to drown the last of his sorrows. The worn sign above the door read "the Skull" and judging by the motorcycles outside, he deduced that he'd probably be unlikely to encounter an attractive woman who'd be appalled by his stench and appearance. Dean wandered in, went straight to the bar and sat down on a rickety stool.

"Give me a bourbon. I don't care what shelf. And make it a double." He grumbled to the heavily bearded bartender.

"That'll be four dollars." The bartender growled.

Dean groaned and handed over a fake credit card, on which he was dubbed "Angus Bonham."

"Leave it open." He mumbled

The bartender snorted and took the card and mixed him up a drink. Dean took a swig and shuddered. It tasted exactly like lighter fluid. Exactly what he needed and exactly what he deserved. As he sipped, he thought about drinking with Sam. Sitting on the Impala having a beer after a good hunt, or hustling losers in pool, with Sam buying him a congratulatory shot afterward, or even downing purple nurples the first time they met Gabriel. Alcohol would always remind him of his little brother, and mostly, these were good memories. He realized that he'd never have a beer with Sam again and he got a little choked up.

"God, Sammy." He whispered into his glass. "I miss you so much, man. I am so sorry. I am so sorry I couldn't save you."

Dean wiped his eyes with a cocktail napkin and ordered another double bourbon. He drank this one a little more slowly, but he was already three sheets to the wind from drinking at the hotel, that it didn't take much to finish him off. Dean used to think he couldn't get drunk, but the last few days had proven him wrong.

Dean ordered another drink, because  _why did it matter,_ and watched the people in the bar. He was amazed at how blissfully unaware of what had gone on in this town just the week before. He, Sam, Bobby and Cas had saved the world, thrown the devil back into his box, and no one knew.

His brother went to the worst part of Hell to save their lives. Castiel was a fallen angel, completely broken because he wanted to preserve their right to live the way they did. Bobby was dead; his corpse denied a proper funeral, his life lost in the battle. And Dean? He was alone. Completely alone. This is what they had to show for saving the world.

These people? They went on with their lives, drinking at shitholes like this, fucking each other, killing each other, just completely unaware of what was going on just beneath their noses. These people were completely unworthy of the sacrifices that Dean and his family had made for them. Dean watched a tattooed man slap an obese woman on the ass and laugh about it and he knew they were worthless.

He chugged back the rest of his bourbon and the world slowly began to spin and his vision become milky and diluted. He ordered another drink because  _why the hell not?_ He sat there, took the drink in one shot, and suddenly he understood Castiel's utter desperation and sense of loss and he remembered why he had so desperately wanted to be dead when the battle with Satan was over.

"Fuck this." He slurred. "Bartender! Close my tab please."

He stood up, the world around him spinning even faster. The bartender stared at him and Dean thought he heard the guy ask  _if he was okay, if he was driving, if he wanted him to call someone_. Dean shook his head violently and scribbled on the receipt. He stumbled out of the bar, stomach churning, vision blackening. Of course, immediately he ran into someone.

"Fucker, move! Git outta the way." He yelled, his words completely slurred and then he fell down, straight to his knees. The pain in his knee was sharp and the indignity of falling, trashed beyond belief outside a dive bar in a hick town was enough to bring tears to his eyes.

"Dean!" The guy said. "You are very, very intoxicated. The whiskey smell is seeping from your pores. Don't worry. I am not intoxicated. I will take you back to the hotel. I assure you, the Impala is safe."

The guy was Castiel. Dean couldn't exactly see his face because his vision was so blurred with booze and tears, but the strangely literal way he spoke gave it away.

"How didya find me?" He blubbered. "Oh God, Cas, I am so sad. I was such a dick to you. I'm sorry, Cas. God, Sammy. Sammy is gone."

Castiel loaded him into the Impala without a word and drove back to the hotel. Once they got back, Dean ran to the bathroom and immediately vomited. He puked on and off for 20 minutes, his body rejecting his all whiskey and bourbon diet that he had lived on since Sammy had jumped into the hole. He lay there when he was done, filthy, sobbing, completely degraded and humiliated.

Cas cracked the door and came in to the bathroom holding a bottle of water, which he handed to him without a word. He sat on the edge of the tub, rubbing Dean's back as he tried to drink the water without puking more. He felt Cas taking him in, a picture of drunken disaster. He felt like he'd be sick again, just letting his friend see him this way.

"God, Cas, what the fuck man." Dean groaned. "An angel holding my hair back while I puke. What has become of my life?"

"You're mourning." He murmured. "We all mourn in different ways."

"I wish I was dead." He whispered

"No, you don't. If you really wished you were dead, you would have found a way to go by now. And trust me, I wouldn't have the power to bring you back this time. You are… dealing… I think is the phrase." Cas said.

Dean sighed and finished off the water. He was still drunk, but at least it was out of his system now. And at least there was water.

"I am gross. I need a shower." He muttered.

"I concur. You're… slightly ripe." Cas said.

Dean glanced at him and saw a hint of a smile on the angel's usually stern face. Dean rolled his eyes at him.

"Help me up, would you? I've still got the spins." He said

Castiel chuckled and helped him up. "You say you wish you were dead, and some way you've gotten your wish, because you smell like a rotting corpse." He cracked.

"Enough with the gallows humor, which I may add, is not appropriate just yet." Dean said, rolling his eyes again. He felt the corners of his mouth turn up a little bit. A smile?

He couldn't remember the last time he had smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

After the exorcism performed on his body by bourbon and a hot shower, Dean came out feeling slightly more human than he had in weeks.

He sauntered into the hotel room from the bathroom, clad in pajamas that he never wore, and saw Cas propped up on some pillows on his bed, reading one of Bobby's books for the millionth time. By his side was a notebook scrawled with Enochian symbols. Dean recognized it as a summoning spell for Angels. If Castiel was planning on it, it'd be the fourth time he'd try to summon angels. It hadn't worked the first three times. Dean was about to say something, but didn't want to kill the moment they'd had during his performance in the bathroom.

"We need to get out of this town, dude." He announced.

Cas looked up from the book. "I agree." He said. "We've been here for far too long. This place is horrible too. I'd almost rather be back in Heaven with Raphael."

"Let's take off tomorrow. Let's drive until we're out of this state. Park somewhere and find a case. I need a bloody hunt." Dean said, sitting on the edge of his bed.

Castiel frowned. "Am I a hunter now?" He asked. He looked confused, as if he hadn't thought about what or who he was since he got back.

"Well, you got any other better ideas? I say we hunt, behead a few vamps, gank a few demons, and figure out what the hell to do next. I can't just keep dwelling. That's the one thing I've gotten from this." He said.

"Maybe I could get a job." Cas said thoughtfully. "I've always wondered what it'd be like to work a human job."

"Seriously, dude? A messenger of God wants to flip burgers? No. Fuck that. I say we stick to what we're good at. And what we're good at is killing things." Dean said, shaking his head.

"I would like to start helping people again, that is, if I'm stuck on this plane in this body." Cas said. "Maybe I could be a hunter."

"Screw people. I just need to hunt. It's all I know. You and me, we could be like me and Sammy, saving the world over and over again for their ungrateful asses. We could do it, man. There is always a hunt. There are always things that need killing." He said.

"I am not sure if I could be like Sam." Cas said gently. "And Dean… I think it's a bit soon to be getting… bloody. And Dean… wouldn't you like to know something else besides death and blood?"

"It's all I know, Cas. It's all I've known my whole life." He said.

Cas sighed and put down the book. He came over to the bed and sat next to Dean. Cas really had a thing about invading his personal space.

"Your neck." He said softly, running his fingers over the fan shaped bruises he'd left on Dean's throat during our altercation. "I did that, didn't I? I apologize, Dean. I was very angry. I forget that I'm… stronger than most. I don't feel like it anymore."

Dean shuddered and scooted away. Cas was a little too close. He was in the bubble and it made him feel uncomfortable. Unsurprisingly, the angel the angel scooted right to his side, personal space be damned. He put his fingers on Dean's neck where the bruises were, intending to heal them.

Nothing happened.

"What?" He whispered.

Castiel pressed his fingers a little harder into Dean's neck, and then moved them to his face. Dean felt the worry in the angel's touch as he ran his fingers over his face, pressing down harder. Nothing was happening. Dean didn't even feel the rush of warmth, cleanliness and light that he usually felt when Cas worked his angel mojo.

"No, no, no." He whispered. Then a little louder. "No, no, no. This can't be. This absolutely cannot be."

"Cas, man, it's okay. They don't hurt. It's fine. Don't worry about it." Dean said, trying to calm him down. "Look man, it's fine. See, I'm okay? Cool it, Cas."

"I'm drained." He cried, his voice breaking. "Dean, I've fallen, don't you see? I am nothing. Everything I could do… I can't do it anymore. I am nothing."

He stood up, trench coat whooshing, and put his hands on his face. Dean heard him muttering in a strange language that was either Latin or Enochian or both. He paced back and forth around the room, with his face covered, his voice getting gradually louder and harsher. Dean realized that he was summoning, except he hadn't set up a circle, or anything. He was just chanting into the wind.

Dean stood up and went over to the beleaguered angel. They couldn't both have mental breakdowns tonight, or else they'd never get out of this town. He grabbed Cas by the shoulders and pulled him into a tight embrace. He rarely hugged dudes, but it seemed like the right thing to do right then.

"Cas." He murmured, "Cas, buddy, come back to me. Remember? We're getting out of here tomorrow. We're moving on, and you can get a job at McDonalds if you want. Remember all those cheeseburgers? We can get one. We can do whatever you want. Come on back to me. Don't worry about it right now."

Cas shuddered underneath his embrace. "All I was, I am no more." He whispered. "Dean… I don't know what I am."

Dean pulled him in close. He didn't know what Cas was either, but he had his thoughts. It seemed like Cas was becoming human.

After an hour or so of coddling Cas, hugging him and telling him fantasy stories about the great things they'd do, the "angel" or whatever he was, finally calmed down and sat back down.

"I'm exhausted." Cas muttered. "I have never been exhausted. Even when I was at my weakest, I never needed sleep. I don't think I know how to sleep."

"What have you been doing those two or three hours every night I've been sleeping?" Dean asked. It was an honest question. Cas couldn't teleport, he was a terrible night driver, and he had no desire for food or drink. Or so he thought. He always wondered what Cas did when he wasn't around.

"Researching. Reading. Praying. Last night I walked around town for awhile. I recently started reading 'Julius Caesar' since he always fascinated me." Cas admitted.

Dean nodded. "Well… good for you. Do you feel like you could sleep? Do you need sleep?"

"I might. I think I might be tired." He said.

"Well, then let's sleep. God knows I need it. Then tomorrow, we're out of here." Dean said.

"How do you sleep? How do you remain unconscious for several hours at a time by sheer force of will?" Cas asked.

Dean almost rolled his eyes, but then he remembered that Cas had never slept. The concept was probably absurd to him. The way that he had phrased it, Dean suddenly was aware of how strange the idea of sleeping was when you thought about it in literal terms.

"You… close your eyes and just let it come to you, I guess. I don't know. I've always had trouble sleeping. I think it has something to do with knowing that the monster in your closet is real." Dean said.

"Perhaps I will try it." Cas said.

Dean nodded and got under the covers of his bed, acutely aware of how rumpled the sheets were and of how they smelled vaguely of mildew. He couldn't wait to get out of here.

He sighed and rolled over on his side, his normal sleeping position.

"Why do you sleep like that?" Cas asked, right into his ear. Cas was in bed next to him. "Is that what you find most comfortable? Doesn't your arm go numb because of your human blood flow? I know it tends to become constricted, if you will."

"Cas! Man, you don't sleep in bed with other dudes! I'm all for you sleeping, but not next to me!" Dean cried rolling over on his back.

Castiel was perched next to him, looking straight down at his face. He looked slightly confused, but not embarrassed like Dean was. Dean took a closer look at his face. Cas did look exhausted. The rings around his eyes were now a deep purple, as if he had been punched repeatedly. He really did need sleep.

"I don't see why it matters. Sleeping is the most non-sexual act I can think of right now." Cas said. "Besides… I think if I was able to observe you sleeping, instead of simply watching over you from afar like I usually do, it might help me to achieve a dream state myself."

Cas was talking about him like he was a science experiment. Dean found it exasperating, but also slightly amusing. And Cas was right… sleeping was non-sexual. There were a few times when he and Sammy had slept in the same bed when faced with no money or tight quarters, and it had happened even as adults. Cas was basically his family, just like Sammy had been. What harm could it do?

"Okay… but this is the first and last time. It's creepy, man. You sound like that dude in that vampire book written by the Mormon nun, or whatever." Dean muttered.

"I don't understand that reference." Castiel said plainly.

Cas settled in next to him, reading "Julius Caesar" in the the room's weak light. He felt the bed shift a little as Cas got comfortable, but Dean felt oddly calm having the angel sitting next to him. He didn't realize how nice it was to have someone so close, even if it was an asexual angel who was falling from Heaven. It took awhile, but Dean finally fell asleep.

That night, just like he did every night, Dean dreamed of Sam and Bobby. He dreamed of the day they had defeated Lucifer. He saw the anger in Sam's eyes while Lucifer wore his skin, he saw Sam's eyes as he escaped from the archangel's hold and chose Hell over the end of the world, and he watched as Sammy leapt into the hole in the ground that was now his cage. He saw Sam killing Bobby, watching Bobby's neck twist around, the light leaving his surrogate father's eyes. He saw the determined face of Cas, newly human, facing down Satan himself. He felt the fire of Hell licking his skin, he felt the pain of the souls he tortured and he heard Alastair's wicked laugh, encouraging him to spill more blood. Dean woke up in a cold sweat, chest pounding, just like he did every night.

This is why he had trouble sleeping.

Dean lay there in the dark, muttering his nightly affirmations to himself. It's not real, it's not real, you will get Sammy out, Bobby is in Heaven with Ellen and he's happy. Cas is right here. You're okay. You're okay. You will be okay.

"Dean?" A sleepy voice murmured.

Dean jumped a little, then he remembered that Cas was in the bed next to him. He had completely forgotten, thanks to the night terrors. Dean blinked. To his surprise, Cas appeared to have just woken up. He was fully dressed, trench coat and all, but even in the dark, he could tell Cas had actually been sleeping.

"Sorry, Cas." He muttered. "Go back to sleep. I mean, this is the first time you've slept, like ever, and I don't want to interrupt."

"The nightmares again?" Cas murmured. He rolled over onto his side, so he was facing Dean.

"Yeah." Dean mumbled.

"Come here." Cas murmured, motioning at him. "You need sleep, Dean and I know humans sleep better when someone has given them comfort. You were right about one thing tonight, we need to get out of here, and of us needs to be cogent enough to drive tomorrow. I can assure you that will not be me."

"Cas… no." He whispered. "I can't. I just.. can't."

"Dean, quit. Just quit. Come over here. I promise the world won't end because you let someone with male genitalia touch you." He said. He sounded annoyed. He was annoyed because he had just woken up, which was just surreal to Dean.

Dean groaned inwardly. He rolled over on his side and scooted over to Cas. He felt the rustling of the trench coat as Cas settled in next to him and very hesitantly, very noninvasively put his arm around him.

"Cas, at least take off the damn trench coat. Seriously, that thing is noisy." He whispered.

Cas muttered something obscene under his breath and took off the trench coat.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Dean woke up, surprisingly refreshed. He should have the hangover of death, but somehow, he avoided it. He rolled over and saw Cas next to him, still passed out, and the strange events from the night before came rushing back. Cas, realizing he couldn't heal anymore. His own drunken breakdown. Cas sleeping in the same bed as him. Cas sleeping. Cas spooning him until he fell asleep and Sam's screams faded away from his mind.

It was odd to admit, but he didn't feel any residual discomfort from everything that had happened between him and Cas the night before. He wasn't just talking about sharing a bed or holding he each other. He was thinking about how the two of them had utterly broken down in front of each other, fallen to pieces, and then picked each other back up. Hadn't it always been like that with them, though? At least it had been like that for Dean. Cas had always been there for him, in the most literal sense. He had given up everything for Dean. Now he was alone. Like seriously, all alone. His brothers, his sisters, hell, even GOD had abandoned Cas. And Dean was alone too. Except… he wasn't alone. He was mourning and he had lost Sammy and Bobby, but somehow, he still had Castiel, who was the last "person" that Dean expected to have by his side in the end.

Dean observed the angel, who appeared to be deep in sleep. His face was relaxed and he was breathing slightly, even though Dean wasn't sure he needed to breathe. Cas looked content, like he wasn't living through the nightmare of falling from Heaven and becoming human. Cas looked so content that Dean himself felt content and settled back into the uncomfortable bed. The rustling springs seemed to stir Castiel out of the first night's sleep he had ever experienced willingly.

"What time is it?" He muttered to Dean, his eyes still closed. "I never thought time mattered, but now I want to make sure I don't sleep my mortal life away."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Cas, you're not mortal. And it's only 7am."

"Good. Good. That's early for you, I suppose. And for me now." He growled.

Dean snorted. Cas rolled over on his side and reached over to Dean and pulled him close, which was easy considering he was significantly stronger than Dean was.

"DUDE." He cried.

"Shut up." Cas hissed. "I was amazed by how easily I was able to rest and relax last night with you by my side. There really is something to it. I am very unhappy this morning. I warn you not to ask me why."

"You're not going to like…" Dean started.

"Shut up, you pervert. I am not some bar wench that is entranced by the handsome looks possessed by your human meat suit." Cas muttered.

That shut Dean right up. Helplessly he watched as Cas buried his face into his chest, burrowing against him like he was some kind of human pillow. He lay there for a minute and finally, he relaxed. It really wasn't so bad. Cas was solid. He was there. Dean felt anchored and not so lost to the nightmares and to his loss with him next to him. Dean lifted his right arm and wrapped it around Cas's narrow shoulders.

"Thank you." Cas said hoarsely, his face still buried. "Dean, I am so lost."

Dean didn't say anything. He simply pulled Cas in closer, into sort of a half hug. He threaded his free hand into Cas's and tried to give it a reassuring squeeze. He felt Cas sigh into his chest and then he turned over so he was half facing him. They lay there for awhile like that. Dean felt how tense Cas was, how when he breathed, he shuddered. He could tell he was trying to hold it together.

The longer Cas was back, the more emotions he seemed to be experiencing. When he had first rebelled, Cas had barely ever showed emotions. He was like a robot who occasionally said nonsensical things because of his unawareness of human custom. Then he had really thrown himself into the fight. He had lost it the night Dean almost said "yes" to Michael. Since that night, Dean could tell Cas had been struggling. Dean knew how it felt. His whole life, he had shoved his feelings into the sand, and poured an ocean on top of them. He could definitely relate to Cass feeling lost.

They checked out of the hotel around 10am, glad to put Stull, Kansas in the Impala's rearview. Dean would always remember it as the town where he had lost Sam. He felt slightly sick as they left town, feeling like he was leaving Sam and Bobby behind. He put on Black Sabbath, blasted it as loud as he could. There was so much he didn't know. He didn't know where they were going. He didn't know if he'd ever get Sam back. He didn't know where Bobby was. He didn't know what faced them. He was damn glad to be getting out of Kansas though.

They drove for hours, following random signs, not saying much. Finally, around 6, Dean pulled into a diner in Bondurant, Iowa. It seemed like a good place to be for the moment. Population was less than 5,000. It was another random small town to lose himself in, the kind of place where you could be anonymous.

"I need some grub. You might not need to eat, but I do." He said.

"I feel sick." Cas muttered. "My body… I fear… I fear that I am losing this vessel."

"What? Cas, what the hell? Why didn't you say something earlier? What can we do? What do you feel?" Dean cried, alarm in his voice.

"I feel this emptiness. I feel hollow. My… Jimmy's guts, where they were before, ache, like they are being stabbed. It's very unpleasant." Cas said.

Dean slapped his hand against his forehead. "Dude. You're hungry. That is all. That is exactly how I feel if I don't get some red meat in my system for a day or two. Actually, that's how I feel right now."

"I don't think I ever… felt this hollow though." Cas said.

"Do you mean emotionally or physically?" Dean asked, being semi-serious.

"This is purely a physical sensation." He replied.

"You're hungry. Trust me. Come on, let's get you one of those cheeseburgers you were jonesing for last night." Dean said, hopping out of the car.

"I cannot be hungry, Dean, I am an angel of the lord." He said seriously.

The way he said it, Dean burst out laughing. He knew he shouldn't, but Cas sounded so resolved, so determined not to eat. Cas stared at him darkly, his face just as stern as it usually was. Obviously this version of Castiel was someone who got irritable if he didn't get food in his system.

They sat down in the diner, Dean ordered his usual pile of dead cow, but Castiel took 15 minutes to decide, so Dean picked for him. For his first human meal, Dean decided to go easy on his stomach, so he ordered Castiel chicken fingers and a large coke. When the food arrived, Cas's eyes widened, like he was seeing breasts for the first time.

"This smells amazing." He stuttered. "It has never smelled like this before."

"It's because you're hungry. Dig in, man!" Dean said.

They ate, but Cas ate like a bird, picking at the chicken, peeling the fried part off and eating it slowly. He drank the coke in small slurps, his eyes widening every time the carbonated sugar hit his tongue. Dean finished his food in 5 minutes. It took Cas 25 minutes to eat his. When he was finally done, Dean looked at him expectantly.

"How was it?" he asked. "You still feel hollow?"

"No." Castiel muttered, "I feel… wonderful. I feel full and warm and I kind of want to be unconscious again. My vessel was simply craving food. How strange."

"Cas… are you sure that Jimmy's still in there?" Dean asked slowly. "Are you sure that… well, that this body isn't yours now?"

Cas stared at him, his eyes wide, innocent, as if he hadn't considered that.

"I don't know." He said finally. "I don't… feel Jimmy anymore. I haven't since I got back."

Cas stood up. "I have to… go stare at myself in the mirror in the bathroom." He muttered.

Dean thought about this as Cas stalked away. Cas was in denial about what was happening to him. Something had brought him back, yes, and whatever was powerful enough to do that scared the hell out of Dean, but Cas wasn't restored to his original self. He had been brought back as something else entirely. Dean was pretty sure that Cas wasn't an angel anymore.

Cas referred to an angel that lost his or her "abilities" as falling. Cas had been falling the second he had rebelled against Heaven. Bit by bit, he had weakened, but most of abilities had been intact in one way or another. This wasn't the case now. Cas had been brought back from the dead as a semblance of angel, but now, everything that had made him an angel was fading, and it was fading fast. He could no longer teleport. He couldn't heal. He hadn't tried, but he knew Cas couldn't bend time or kill demons anymore. Dean hadn't seen Castiel's wings, but he was pretty sure Cas didn't have those either. Those hallmarks of the divine were no longer a part of Cas. Not to mention that Cas was developing human needs and emotions. He needed sleep and food now. For all Dean knew, he also needed to drink water and use the bathroom. Day by day, Cas was becoming more and more human.

Dean didn't want to say it out loud, but he was pretty sure this is why Cas had been brought back from the dead. He was meant to spend the remainder of his life as a human man, mortal, weak, and without power.


	6. Chapter 6

Instead of checking into another hotel, Cas and Dean found a park on the outskirts of town, complete with a playground, picnic tables, and trails. After spending so much time inside the last week, Dean just felt like he needed to be outside. He and Sammy used to park the Impala in places like this and shoot the shit, drink a few beers, and relax after a hunt. He always felt better outdoors, as if it were his true element. Dean thought of Sam and shuddered.

The two of them were sitting on some picnic tables, staring at the stars, enjoying the brisk air.

"Cas… do you think whatever brought you back might be able to bring Sam back too?" Dean asked.

Cas shook his head. "I don't know, Dean. I don't know what brought me back. I prayed. I summoned until I couldn't anymore. I read all of Bobby's books. As far as I could tell, the only beings that could bring an Angel back and do… this… to them is God or another angel. And neither angels nor God is answering me."

"What about Bobby?" Dean asked.

"I don't know, Dean. I don't know anymore. I don't know why this is happening to me. I don't know why you are alone in this world. I thought I could figure it out, but the second I fell asleep last night, I gave up any notions of knowing." He said.

"Why's that?" Dean asked, a little worried about his answer.

"Because I slept." He said.

"You slept?"

"I have never needed sleep before. I have never needed food. I have never been unable to heal people. I have never not been an angel. But what I know is that, well, I am not one anymore. Dean, I am becoming a man. One thing you said at the diner was correct. I've known it for awhile, but Jimmy is gone. He died when Lucifer killed me." Cas said, sounding a little miserable.

"And you didn't tell me?" Dean asked, feeling insulted.

"I didn't want to admit it. I didn't want to admit that this body is all I have now. I didn't want to admit that I sent Jimmy into Heaven not knowing what was up there anymore. Despite what I have put his body through, I always loved his soul. He was a great man and I got him killed." Cas said brokenly, staring at the sky, as if he thought God still might be up there.

After Cas admitted that he knew Jimmy was gone, Dean and the fallen angel didn't speak for awhile. Dean felt a little angry, slightly betrayed that Cas had kept Jimmy's death from him, but Cas had said it: he didn't want to admit it to himself, let alone to anyone else. Dean knew he had no room to judge him either. After all, how often had he hidden things from his family and friends? They were a strange pair, the two of them. They were liars, they were heroes.

After awhile, Cas broke the silence. "So, Bondurant, Iowa." He said slowly.

"Yeah man, Bondurant, Iowa. I don't know. It seemed like a good place to plant roots for a few days. Mostly I just wanted to get the hell out of Kansas. Nothing good ever happens there. I don't know why we stayed for so long." Dean said.

"What next, though?" Cas asked.

"For me, I think it's Bobby's house. I think it's South Dakota for awhile." Dean said.

"Bobby's? Won't it be painful for you to be there without him or Sam?" Cas asked.

"Cas, I have more good memories of that place than bad ones. Good memories of both Sam and Bobby. Without Bobby, there is no one in the house, no one to work the phones. That house is the only real 'home' I ever had in my entire life. I feel like I should be there until I figure out my next move. It's the only thing that makes sense to me." Dean said.

"Can I come with you?"

"Of course you can, dude. I don't want to be there alone. But you can't follow me for the rest of your life. You need to go your own way. What do  _you_ want to do? Now that you're…" Dean started.

"…human." Cas finished. "The first thing, the only thing I can think about is finding out who brought me back, what turned me human. I need to find out why I am here, and what purpose there is for doing this to me."

"Yeah buddy, I can see why you want to find out, but you said it yourself, the only beings with the power to do that are other angels and the Big Man himself. I'm not trying to get you down… but so far you haven't had luck with either." Dean responded

"It has been a week, Dean. I certainly don't give up after a week. Going to Bobby's, where there's more books, more supplies, and going into this with a clear head is exactly what I need to find out why this happened to me. I will find out. And then… we are going to find a way to get Sam and Adam out." Cas said.

_Adam._

The cold, hard truth of the matter was that since they had averted the apocalypse, Dean hadn't thought much about Adam at all. He had too much pain for Sammy, Bobby, Cas, and himself. Adam was secondary in his concern because there simply wasn't enough pain to go around. Although Dean didn't think about it much, the younger Winchester, their secret brother, was down there with Sam too. And unlike him and Sam, Adam had never had any clue about what was out there. He hadn't wanted to be a part of this, but because Dean hadn't said yes, and because Sam had said yes, Adam was in Hell.

"Sam, Adam, Bobby and Jimmy are the victims here, Dean. Not us." Cas said softly. "I may be human, and you may be… well, suicidal, but we are alive. We are here on earth. We have a second chance to do whatever we want with our lives. That is an opportunity that Jimmy, Sam, Adam and Bobby will never have again. Sam and Adam deserve this opportunity too, which is why we have to spend some of our second chance trying to get them out."

"But how, Cas? We're just men. This includes you. I am no longer an almighty vessel and you are no longer an angel. Believe me, I want them out, probably way more than you do, but no demons will deal and we are just two guys." Dean said.

When he said that, Castiel's face lit up with anger, his indigo eyes flashing. Dean gulped. He had pissed him off again and prepared to be choked or thrown across the park. He glanced down at Cas's fists, which were clenched tightly. Apparently Cas also felt betrayed.

"You tried to make a deal with a demon?" Cas said angrily. "After everything you went through before? Why, Dean? Why would you do that? How could you be so stupid?"

"Of course I did. It's Sammy, and he's not just dead this time. He's in Hell. I'd go back there again in five seconds if it meant he could get out. Except get this: Hell doesn't want me anymore. They want Sam. No demon was willing to make a deal with me. The ones I tried… they all laughed in my face." Dean muttered, remembering the red, laughing eyes of one of the Crossroads Demons he had summoned one day last week when he wasn't busy drinking and moping.

Cas softened when he said that. Maybe the days of getting the shit kicked out him by the nerd angel were finally over. Dean couldn't deny he was happy about that.

"Well, I killed that bastard, stuck that knife in him. That's all I could do. I killed all of them after they laughed at me and said their new boss would never allow it." Dean muttered.

"Hell has a new boss?" Cas said, suddenly interested.

"Yeah man, I'm sorry; I should have said something about that. At the time, I didn't think about it… I was only thinking about getting Sammy out, about killing those goddamn demons." Dean murmured.

Cas looked thoughtful for a second, as if a million ideas were running through his head. Dean hoped he wouldn't say that they should take on this new boss, whoever the sonofabitch was. He had no interest in taking on Hell again. It was there for a reason and it would always be there. All he cared about was getting Sam out and not returning there himself.

"Cas, no." Dean said. "Not tonight, Cas. I have no interest in meeting Lucifer's replacement."

"I know, I know… it'd be foolish. But this is a clue, Dean. Someone took over. Things are moving. That must mean… well, I wonder if Heaven has a new boss yet, now that Michael is gone." Cas said.

"It's probably that asshole Raphael." Dean muttered, thinking of the perpetually cocky grin that always seemed to cover the archangel's face. God, Raphael pissed him off.

"I should hope not. If Raphael is in charge, then things could be very bad… for all of us." Cas said, looking a little worried.

Dean decided to change the subject. Castiel was no longer a part of that world. He couldn't do anything about Heaven. He was stuck on earth and this was where he could make a difference now. Although Dean didn't share Castiel's enthusiasm for trying to find out why he was back, nor did Dean believe deep in his heart that they'd ever find a way to get Sammy out. Everything that he could think of, he'd already tried, and everything he hadn't thought of, Sam had tried when Dean was in Hell, and none of those had worked.

Finally Dean spoke up. "So we have a plan then, Cas. We go to Bobby's, set up shop there and try to find out why you're here and how to get Sammy back. While we're there, we can work the phones, maybe pick up a few hunts, maybe get some jobs. One day at a time, but at least for now we have a plan."

"Do we go tonight?" Cas asked, looking over at him.

"No. I am too tired to drive. Let's get a room in town, maybe some beers, and see if there is a game on." Dean said, even though the thought of drinking any kind of alcohol made him queasy after all of the whiskey and bourbon from the night before.

"I do not like beer." Cas said firmly. "To be honest, I prefer whiskey or red wine. The night I discovered that liquor store, the beer made me feel bloated and tired. Plus I think this body might be mildly allergic to hops."

"Well, no whiskey for me. Come to think of it, I'm not going to drink tonight." Dean said.

"That is probably smart, considering your projectile vomiting last night." Cas said, "but I would like to purchase some alcohol. I am interested in how my constitution has changed since I… well, since I came back."

"Alright man, some booze for you, some soda for me, and a game for the both of us." Dean said.

An hour later, Dean and Cas were checking into the only motel in town, a rundown place called the "Moonlight Motel" and it was the kind of place that rented by the hour. Dean was almost embarrassed to be getting a room in a place like that, because he didn't want anyone to think Cas was a hooker or that he was renting a room with a guy for _those reasons._ He made it abundantly clear that they needed two beds and the bored clerk just stared at him when he emphasized this.

They entered the room and set down their bags, which were filled with snacks and wine for Cas and settled in. Cas pulled out the wine and stared at it, mystified. Dean sat down on the room's uncomfortable couch and turned on the television, flicking through the channels until he found a basketball game.

Cas plopped down next to him, holding the wine, which still wasn't open. He squinted at the television and made a face. Clearly Cas didn't know how to open a wine bottle, nor did he find basketball amusing.

"Cas, do you want me to open that?" Dean asked. "It needs a corkscrew."

"The last time I consumed alcohol, I did not need a corkscrew, nor was it an issue for me to pull the cork out myself." Cas said unhappily. "Do you have this tool for opening this bottle?"

"Yeah man, of course I do. I'm a casual alcoholic, you know." Dean replied.

Dean stood up and used the corkscrew keychain to open the red wine. Dean found it amusing that Cas only liked red wine, but not white and that he was mystified by a corkscrew. Dean handed Cas the bottle, which he would have to drink straight from, Dean-style, because they had no cups except a slightly moldy travel mug of Sam's that was in the Impala. Dean planned on never washing it, never tossing it, because Sammy had chugged coffee from it during his last day on earth.

They sat there for awhile, watching two Midwestern NCAA teams playing. Cas drank slowly and watched the game intently, as if he was trying to figure out exactly what was going on between the basketball teams. Dean wasn't too interested in it. Basketball was his least favorite sport. He preferred football and hockey, which in his opinion were real sports because of how violent they were. Dean loved violence.

Finally Cas spoke up. "Dean, this is stupid. A game of bean stalks throwing orange leather spheres into hoops does not interest in the slightest and I am growing irritated by how often they run into each other on purpose. Pure stupidity Give me the remote." He complained.

Dean chuckled and handed Cas the remote. When Cas could not figure out how to operate it, Dean took it back and flipped through the channels. Finally Cas decided that he wanted to watch Scarface, which actually was one of Dean's all-time favorite movies.

"I adore Al Pacino. He is a wonderful character and I love his voice. I had a sister who loved him too." Cas said wistfully.

"Angels follow American movies?" Dean asked, genuinely interested. He didn't think angels gave a crap about pop culture, especially movies made in the last 100 years.

"As a rule, angels do not watch movies. We have no time for such frivolities." He said, "But my sister, Mariel, was stationed in California for 96 years and she watched the rise of Hollywood. She loved the culture. She used to bring back the most wonderful stories to Heaven, including stories about watching movies being made. Her favorite movie set during her 100 years in Hollywood was Scarface."

Dean was impressed. Mariel actually sounded pretty legitimate for an angel, especially if she was a spy on the Scarface set. Why hadn't Cas summoned someone like her? Dean wished that Cas had introduced him to angels like her, instead of assholes like Zachariah and Uriel. There was so little Dean actually knew about Heaven and angels, except that they were crazy powerful and also tended to be huge pricks. When Cas off-handedly told a story like that, it made Dean interested to meet more angels and it also made him feel depressed for Cas, because that wasn't his life anymore.

Cas seemed to know it too, because after he told the story about his sister, he was quiet for a long time, and started slugging back the wine at record pace. Dean watched as a drug dealer was shot multiple times in the chest and still managed to move, thinking about all of the times he and Sam had been shot. He remembered shooting Cas the first time he met him, when had seemed so distant and so powerful. Dean couldn't believe that the confused and wistful man next to him was the same person who had appeared to him that day in the barn, telling Dean he'd brought him back from Hell and flashing his wings like Dean was supposed to be impressed. He couldn't believe Cas was human and that he was sitting next to him watching Scarface while chugging $7 red wine.

Cas finished the bottle about 10 minutes before the end of Scarface. Dean glanced at him. In the darkness of the room and the glow of the television, he could tell Cas was at least buzzed. Cas had been right, his constitution had changed. He now got drunk off 1 bottle of wine, instead of several thousand. Cas was definitely human.

"This is the best part." Cas drawled, slumping back on the couch. "Everyone gets shot. It's epic."

"Did you just say epic?" Dean asked, snorting, trying to prevent the huge grin that was spreading across his face. This version of Cas, well, he talked like he was a frat boy.

"Fourth time." He said suddenly.

"Fourth time for what?" Dean asked, very confused.

"That's the fourth time you've smiled in the last two days. Before the last two days, you hadn't smiled since a week before we took on Lucifer." Cas muttered, utterly transfixed by the dead drug dealers and the mountain of cocaine on the screen.

"You've been… keeping track of that?" Dean asked, equal parts charmed and creeped out.

"Yes, well, you smile so rarely these days, that I always notice when there is even a hint of it on your face. You always seem to be laughing at me though. You smiled when I said you smelled like a rotting corpse, then laughed at my misfortune when I thought I was losing my vessel, you smiled in your sleep this morning and obviously you just found something I said amusing." Cas said.

"Damn Cas, I don't know if I should be flattered or bothered by that. Keeping track of how happy I am, what are you, a shrink?" Dean joked.

"Why do you respond to everything I say with sarcasm? Especially when I'm simply trying to be nice?" Cas asked him suddenly, turning to Dean.

Dean didn't know what to say, because he wasn't aware that he did that. That was something that Sam had always said he did. He called it "Dean's Sarcastic, Defensive, Macho Front." A few women Dean had dated had pointed it out as well. What was Cas, his brother? Was he a woman he was dating? After the last few days, Dean was disturbed at how blurry that line was becoming, though he'd never admit this to Cas. He had felt more comfortable and sure of his relationship with Castiel when he had been an evasive, asshole angel.

Dean just shook his head and shrugged. Cas stood up and stretched, revealing an expanse of pale skin that Dean really wish he hadn't noticed. He threw the empty wine bottle into the trash can that was across the room. The bottle landed square in it. Apparently Cas still had some of his angelic reflexes.

"Maybe you should play basketball. That was a nice toss, Cas." Dean said, trying to get back on his good side.

"I am not tall enough to play basketball. It appears all of those men are at least your brother's height." Cas muttered, standing in front of him.

Dean winced. Sam's gargantuan height had always been a good natured joke among him and other hunters. Cas noticed and sat back down.

"I'm sorry." He said. "I didn't mean to bring up Sam."

"It's fine, Cas, I just miss him. I miss the way he was always so much smarter than me, I miss his stupid girl hair, and I miss how dopily tall he was. I miss him so much." Dean muttered, staring at the television.

Cas sighed, and seeming like he didn't know what else to do, reached over and pulled Dean into another hug. Dean breathed him in. For a guy he hadn't seen shower yet, he smelled really good, clearly another one of his angelic traits that he still retained. God, it felt so good to be close to someone. Why was he just noticing  _how damn good_ the dude smelled? It was like a mixture of fresh laundry and raspberries, which had been the flavor of wine he had been drinking.

"Cas…" Dean muttered, feeling like he had been the one drinking all of the sudden. "Cas, man."

Their faces were dangerously close. Like too close for comfort.

Dean thought about how Cas had used the last of his angel mojo to heal him, how Cas was so determined to save his brother, how he had not judged him for wanting to die, and how the guy used words like "epic" and drank red wine and wore a suit to bed and knew how often he smiled, and suddenly he didn't even give a shit anymore. He didn't care about rules about sexuality or family anymore. This was Castiel _,_ his guardian angel, his rebel angel, his new partner in crime, and his friend. He was the guy whose mouth was literally centimeters from his and he was the guy who Dean wanted to kiss so badly that he was shaking.

So he did.

Dean leaned in and captured that mouth, those full lips, in his. Cas groaned a little and pulled him in closer, his mouth devouring his, tangling his fingers in Dean's hair, drinking him in with such urgency that Dean felt like he might be swallowed up into this half-man, half-angel's embrace. Dean returned the urgency, pushing him back against the couch, sliding his tongue into his mouth, grasping the collar of Cas's ubiquitous dress shirt. Unable to stop, he pushed Cas back completely and straddled him to get better access to that full, delicious mouth. He got hard instantly, the feeling of the smaller man beneath him too much to bear. He ground his hips into Cas's and he heard Cas gasp, which only made him want to devour the angel even more. They made out for a few minutes like that, going at it like two teenagers. When it became too much for Dean to handle, he moved his fingers down to the dress shirt and started to unbutton it. Then he felt Cas's fingers on his, pushing them away from his shirt. He pulled his mouth from Dean's, effectively ending the best make out session Dean had experienced in years.

"Dean, stop. Stop. This is too fast." He whispered.

Dean stopped and sighed. "Okay, God, man. I am sorry. I just… I was hot."

"I know." Cas mumbled.

Dean rolled off his Cas so he was sitting next to him again. "So… are we going to have to talk about it?" He muttered, feeling his face grow hot, feeling his boner slowly deflate at the prospect of that conversation.

"No Dean, we do not need to talk about it. It was… well, it was delightful. I had no idea that twining with another human like that could be so enjoyable." Cas admitted. "I just… fell though. I just got back here and I have never, I repeat  _never_ had that happen. It was going a little too quickly for me."

"So, what now?" Dean asked.

"I am rather sleepy, to be honest, which depresses me. I think the wine had that effect. I am feeling slightly off-kilter." Cas said.

"So you're drunk?" Dean asked, smirking a little bit.

"Just a little. Nothing like you were last night, but I feel warm and content and I just want to go to bed." Cas admitted.

"I kind of feel like that too… except I'm not drunk. So, which bed do you want? One looks slightly harder than the other, so have your pick." Dean asked.

"I feel like we're past that." Cas said simply, standing up.

Dean smiled a little more. A few minutes later, they were crawling into the slightly softer bed, which still felt like a bed of nails. Dean noticed he was fully dressed, from his trench coat down to his shoes.

"Cas, at least take off the damn trench coat, suit, and the shoes. That can't possibly be comfortable. In fact, why don't you borrow something of mine?" He reached over into his suitcase and handed him a t-shirt advertising Stanford University that had once belonged to Sam. He couldn't believe he'd let Cas wear it, but somehow it seemed okay.

"I don't know why you're so insistent to enforce ridiculous norms about sleeping attire. You forget that I just recently started sleeping, so the concept seems absurd to me." Cas said, while taking off the trench coat and suit. He pulled the Stanford shirt over his frame and Sam had been so much taller than Cas that it swallowed him up.

Dean chuckled and rolled over on his side and pulled the covers up to his chin. He felt Cas snuggle up next to him, draping one arm over Dean's side. Dean sighed and it was actually with content. Somehow, this felt right, somehow it felt okay.


	7. Chapter 7

The next day Cas and Dean left Bondurant, Iowa, and Dean was happy to be on his way to Bobby's house. He hadn't been happy to wake up in a long time. It was the first morning he had woken up without a hangover, without the urge to put a gun in his mouth.

They stopped at Bob Evans on their way out of town and watching the man eat pancakes for the first time was probably one of the funniest things Dean had ever seen. He was like a small child. He couldn't figure out how to use the butter knife properly, which embarrassed Cas, but delighted Dean, because it was so goddamn funny. Dean was amazed that a warrior of God, who had so expertly wielded the angel blade during battle, couldn't properly cut pancakes. Cas refused to let Dean cut up his pancakes for him, instead choosing to eat the pancakes like they were toast, which resulted in him getting syrup all over his face, clothes, and fingers. He also spilled coffee all over his shirt because it was "too hot for his mouth" and had to finally change out of his usual uniform in the men's bathroom.

He came out of the bathroom. "I look ridiculous." He said gruffly. "Dean, your clothes are too big for me. These pants are nearly exposing my rear. I was not aware how much weight this body had lost."

Dean burst out laughing. Sure enough, the clothes he had given Cas to wear were baggy on him and the jeans were falling down over his narrow hips. Plus, an angel of the lord wearing flannel? Just picture it. It's hilarious.

"Don't worry dude… we'll go steal you some clothes on our way to Bobby's." He said, trying not to laugh because clearly Cas was offended.

They hit the road after Cas's debacle at breakfast, intending to drive straight through the day. As they merged onto the freeway, Dean thought about the little things, like the purr of the Impala and the way the gas pedal felt underneath is foot, the way the sun drenched the hood with light and made the car look more purple than black, and being able to eat pancakes on a Sunday morning. It was these little things that made each passing day a little more bearable, and kept him from wishing he were dead.

"You know, I've lost track of the smiles." Cas said.

"What?" Dean said, coming out of his trance.

"You actually smiled so much last night and this morning that I've lost count. Perhaps I don't need to keep track anymore." Cas said.

"That'd be something, right? I don't know, man… things… well this week was hell. One of the worst weeks of my life. I see an awkward, gangly teenager and I think he's Sam. I see an old man in a trucker hat, and I think he's Bobby. Everything reminds me of them. I can't imagine my life without them, yet here I am with you, living it, and I think I might be okay eventually." He responded.

"I think so too." Cas said. "It still hasn't sunk in that I'm, well, mortal, but I'm getting used to it. Honestly, it's nice to not always be looking over my shoulder, and it's nice to have such frivolous concerns. When you're an angel, your entire life is a grand epic, a constant battle. Now… well, I'm just happy to be able to enjoy pancakes and the feeling of an attractive man's mouth on mine."

Dean snorted. "So, about that… uh, look, I don't know how you feel about it, but do you think it was a mistake?" He asked.

Dean hadn't wanted to bring it up, but he had no idea what it meant, and that was killing him. The truth of the matter was that he had enjoyed himself, more than he had enjoyed any sexual encounter he'd had in a long time. It didn't really bother him that Cas was a dude, because although he'd never said it out loud, he had always found certain men attractive and he saw no difference between dating a man rather than a woman. What mattered is that it had happened with Castiel, who was one of his best friends, who was dealing with a large amount emotional baggage himself, and, oh yeah, who also wasn't quite human. The interspecies aspect of it bothered Dean far more than the same sex aspect of the experience.

"I don't believe it was a mistake. We didn't really… do anything, Dean. There was nothing wrong with what happened." Cas replied.

"I know, dude, I mean, believe me, I don't think what we did was morally wrong, but the fact of the matter is that it happened, and, well, I'd really like it to happen again. I don't know what that means for us, I don't know what it means for you. I mean, Cas, have you ever been attracted to anyone before? Do you understand sexual urges at all?" Dean said.

That was another thing that bothered Dean. He had no idea if Cas felt the same physical pull to Dean as Dean did to him. He didn't know if Cas even knew about sex, if he had ever even kissed someone before last night, or if Cas even had a sexuality. In the two years he'd known the angel, he'd always assumed he was asexual. This changed after Dean met Anna, who professed that some angels just loved sex, but he had never gotten that vibe from Castiel.

"Dean, you forget that I have been alive for a bit longer than you. I understand the mechanics of sex and I've always been curious about it. During my life, I have felt enormous attraction to some beings, particularly humans. I just never had the opportunity, nor did I think it would be safe or appropriate for me to copulate with a human. You forget our enormous power." Cas said.

Dean squinted at Cas. He didn't realize that having sex with an angel could cause death, but he guess it made sense. An angel could burn out your eyes with one stare, so imagine what angel jizz could do. When that came to Dean's mind, he had to try to stop from laughing because the concept was strange, even for him.

"If you're wondering if I'm attracted to you, then you are a moron." Cas said, almost off-handedly.

"You are?" Dean asked "I assume… you are?"

"Dean, humans are works of art. If you knew how intricate something like your circulatory system is, if you really thought about how your body and your brain worked, you'd think so too. If you saw how beautiful a human soul can be, then you'd understand. You are a human, thus you are a work of art, and your form has always been a particular favorite of mine." Cas said, staring at the window.

"You think my… circulatory system is sexy?" Dean asked slowly.

"Dean, you are an idiot. To answer your question in terms you can understand, I'll make it simple. Yes, I am attracted to you, the way you think, the way you move. I love how pure your soul is, despite all of the trials you've been through during your short life. I love the way you keep pushing, keep living, which is why I was so devastated by your need to die, your need to say yes to Michael. I've been around for eons, and I have never experienced a human soul as beautiful as yours." He said.

Dean sat there silently. That was a load, a lot to live up to. Cas thought he had a beautiful soul, thought he had a beautiful mind. Normally it was "wow, you have great abs!" or "your mouth is so sexy", but no, Cas was attracted to his soul.

"And you have a great ass." Cas added. "Rock hard. You could chip a tooth on it."

Dean snorted. Usually he was the one to ruin a beautiful moment with an ill-advised sarcastic comment. Clearly, he was a bad influence on Cas.

"So, what? Are we going to make a habit of what happened last night?" Dean asked, returning to his original question.

"I suppose we could. I would like that." Cas murmured. "I quite enjoyed it, to be honest. I always thought sex was so base, but it's been the only other thing I've been able to think about besides my, erm, new situation, and what could be going on in Heaven now that Michael is gone. Honestly, thinking about sex is a pleasant distraction from all of that."

Dean glanced at his friend, suddenly distracted from his need to suss out the situation between the two of them. He hadn't realized Cas was so concerned about the situation in Heaven. As far as Dean was concerned, all of the other angels could suck an angel blade for all he cared.

"Dean, they're my family." Cas said quietly, as if he had read his mind. "Family is family no matter what they do. And it was my home, just like Bobby's house is yours."

Dean didn't know what to say to that and clearly, Cas had no intentions of adding to it, because for the next hour, they drove in tense silence, the sound of Led Zeppelin keeping them company. Dean started to feel really uncomfortable, missing their sarcastic banter at breakfast. He was just about say something about it, when Cas reached over and took his non-driving hand in his. Dean relaxed and the air seemed to clear.

About an hour outside of Sioux Falls, they stopped at a truck stop for a requisite break and so Dean could load up on snacks and soda. The closer they got to Bobby's, the more depressed Dean felt, because he knew the old hunter wouldn't be waiting for them with some "Hunter's Helper" or a sarcastic story about some idiot who was bitten by a Wendigo and thought they were turning into one. Dean wondered to himself if Cas had been right the night before about the house being a bad place to go so soon after Sam and Bobby's deaths. He hoped Cas was wrong.

Cas sauntered up to him in the store, his arms filled with bottles of red wine and cans of food. "I believe we will need sustenance when we arrive at Bobby's, so I purchased these." He announced. "Do you enjoy canned Vienna sausage?"

Looking at the ridiculous combination of purchases Cas had, he immediately felt better. Leave it to Cas to think that canned Vienna sausage was a delicacy. Cas was becoming the only person who could pull Dean out of the dark spaces in his mind.

"Dude, why do you have five bottles of red wine?" He asked incredulously.

"I found that I thoroughly enjoyed the buzz I got from it last night, so it will be my 'go-to drink' from here on out. After seeing what whiskey did to you, I think I will stay away from it." He said simply, as if it was the dumbest question in the world.

As they got back on the road, Dean thought about Cas. He was a paradox. He was 3000 years old and some change, yet he was also newly human, and still part angel, which was just weird. He didn't know how to use a butter knife or what it felt like to have to use the bathroom. His soul was ancient, but at the same time, it was brand new. Cas had seen things that Dean could hardly imagine, yet he found a $7 bottle of red wine to be one of the greatest things ever. He knew everything, yet he was just now discovering humanity. He thought it was amazing that someone like Cas even existed.

Finally, after what felt like days, even though it had only been 4 hours, they pulled into Bobby's driveway. Dean saw all the junkers in the salvage yard and immediately felt an overwhelming, not entirely unpleasant rush of nostalgia. He saw the car where he had rescued Bobby from two angry ghost girls and the patch of dirt where he and Sam had buried the body of a ghoul. It was strange that these things made him wistful, but he knew as soon as they pulled up in front of the house that he was home, that this is where he was meant to be right now.

"I'm home." He whispered as he got out of the car.

Cas got out behind him. "How are you doing?" He murmured. He came up behind Dean and circled his arms around his waist and rested his chin on his shoulder.

"I made the right choice, Cas. This is where we're supposed to be." He replied.

"Good. I'm glad. I'm glad I was wrong." He said.

He took Dean's hand and they walked up the stairs into the house.


	8. Chapter 8

The first two weeks at Bobby's house, Cas and Dean slowly but surely built a routine.

Days were spent researching Hell and how two human men could pull pure, human souls out without opening the Devil's gate and releasing Hell on earth. There wasn't much, because most ways would lead to another apocalypse or involved deals with demons. Dean got in touch with his contacts to figure out what was going on in the world of the supernatural, and it turned out there wasn't much, just the usual run of the mill baddies. He plied them to figure out if they knew who Hell's new leader was, but if they knew, they wouldn't tell him because most hunters thought Dean was responsible for the near-apocalypse, which was only half true. Cas tried to figure out if his "situation" had ever happened before without an angel ripping out their grace and as far as both of them could tell, it hadn't. He tried to contact a few more angels, but they didn't come.

Dean watched as Cas slowly but surely became more human. His physical strength was slowly dwindling and his need for sleep and food was basically at "normal" human levels. He started perspiring and was forced to start watching his hygiene, which he found irritating. Cas did not like the minutiae of day to day living. He seemed to be dealing with his transition remarkably, until one day he couldn't open a jar of pickles.

Dean was sitting in the living room, reading about a spell to summon reapers, when he heard an exasperated scream and shattering glass. He was immediately up, running to the kitchen.

Holy shit. They've come for him. They've finally answered his prayers and they're killing him.

These were thoughts that first entered his head, but it was so much simpler, yet somehow so much worse.

He found Cas leaning over the counter, sobbing horribly. On the floor below was shattered glass, dill pickles covering the floor. Cas wasn't wearing shoes and had stepped in some of the glass and there was blood.

"Cas! Dude, what happened? Are you okay?" He cried, pulling the fallen angel into his arms.

"I couldn't open the pickles." He sobbed. "I can't even open a fucking jar of pickles."

"What? That's it? Aw, Cas, it happens to all of us, even the manliest of us." He murmured, holding Cas, rubbing his back reassuringly.

"You don't understand, Dean. You don't know what I used to be. I used to be the most powerful creature in the universe. I was pure divine energy, strong enough to send people through time, powerful enough to pull you out of Hell, and sheer force of my voice shattered glass. Now I can't even open a jar of pickles and I have to drive everywhere and I get winded walking up stairs." He said, bawling.

Dean didn't know what to say. He couldn't find the words. There was no possible way he could understand what Cas was going through, what it was like to go from what he was to what he is now. There were no words, because it was unprecedented.

Dean pulled Cas out of the kitchen into the couch in the living room. He cleaned up the cuts on his feet and Cas didn't fight when he bandaged the wounds. He wasn't sure how much pain he was capable of feeling. Then he held him for a long time and Cas didn't say anything, just cried and held him back, as if he was holding on for dear life. Finally, he calmed down and his breathing returned to normal.

"I can't stand not knowing why this is happening to me." Cas murmured, "Dean, I need answers. I have to get answers."

"Don't worry Cas, we'll get you answers… somehow. We'll get answers for everything." Dean whispered, stroking his hair.

"I'm exhausted. Human emotions are exhausting. Also, my feet sting where I stepped on the glass." Cas muttered.

"Want to go lay down for a bit?" Dean asked.

"Yes, I think that would be wise. I need to… rest my brain. My brain which has so many thoughts in it, I feel like it'll explode." He said.

They went up the stairs to the room they had been sharing since they'd moved into Bobby's house. He wondered if Bobby would mind that two dudes were sleeping together and slowly progressing to a full-on sexual relationship under his roof. Bobby had nearly killed Dean when he found him in bed with Rhonda Hurley. Bobby had never been fond of sex happening under his roof.

Cas crawled into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. Dean started to walk out, eager to read more.

"Dean?" Cas called out.

Dean turned around. "Yeah, Cas?"

"Will you stay? I just really need you right now. I still feel… like crap." He muttered, as if he couldn't find words for what he felt.

"Of course, buddy. Anything you need." He said.

Dean got into bed with Cas, and the fallen angel snuggled up to him. Dean pulled him tight, brushing back a few errant strands of hair off his face. He kissed him on the forehead.

Cas really needs a haircut. He thought fondly.

"This is when I feel best." Cas murmured. "During the day, sometimes it's so hard to just crack open those books, so hard just to force myself to eat. Here, with you, is when I feel the happiest, the most human. Here with you is when I realize that being human is better than being an angel."

Dean couldn't help it. He felt a huge smile stretch across his face and his heart suddenly grew 50 sizes.

"Aw, Cas. That is like, I don't know, the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. You seriously have a way of making me feel so much better than I really am. Thank you." He said.

"Don't discount yourself so much, Dean. You're the best. I really, really… care for you. More than I ever thought was possible when I was… different than this." Cas said.

"You thought about this when you were an angel?" Dean asked softly. "Really?"

"At first, no. I thought you were selfish and weak and that you spurned God. I saw how brightly your soul burned, even in the depths of Hell, and I should have known then, but I didn't. Then… well, there was you, every day, and I grew to care. I grew to understand you, and why you did the things you did. And well, at the end of my previous life, I found that I had grown to love you." Cas said.

Dean's heart stopped when Cas said that.

Did he just tell me that he is in love with me?

Yes. He totally had.

"Dean, say something." Cas said suddenly.

Dean didn't realize that he had been silent for awhile after what Cas had said. The truth was that Dean had never said those three words to anyone except for Sam or his dad. He loved his family and he loved Bobby, but obviously it was a different kind of love. He never had loved anyone he'd dated or slept with, and he had lost count of the former and the latter number was somewhere around 60.

Did he love Cas?

He didn't know. So instead of responding, he decided to let his actions speak for themselves, to show Cas that yes, there was passion, there was possibly love, and that he was grateful for him for saving him in every possible after Sam and Bobby had died.

He leaned in and captured Cas's mouth in his. He kissed him with the intensity and attraction he had come to feel for him in the last month. He let his thoughts about spells and Hell fall away and he just poured himself into Cas, who kissed him back with equal passion. He ran his hands over Cas's bare back under his clothes and then pulled off his shirt. He rolled over on top of Cas and moved his mouth down to his throat, sucking and biting on that sensitive place between his shoulders and neck that drove Cas crazy. Cas moaned and gripped Dean's back, digging his nails into his shirt. Dean ripped his own shirt off and leaned over him, resting on his elbows, returning to Cas's mouth, that mouth that he loved, with its full lips and its tendency to turn red after too much kissing. Dean ground his hips into Cas's, wanting, needing skin-on-skin contact. Cas was letting out all of these little gasps and moans that were almost too much for him to hear, because God was it hot. Cas circled his arms around his neck and pulled him in close, kissing him fiercely, all tongue.

Cas pulled away from him, to catch his breath.

"Pants. Off. Now." He panted into Dean's ear.

"Yours too." Dean whispered back.

When it was over, Dean didn't think he had ever felt better. He thought the first time having sex with Cas would be carefully planned with candles and soft music, like some Death Cab for Cutie or possibly that woman from all those depressing animal commercials. Instead, it had been totally spontaneous, slightly rough, and a lot of fun. Dean had never been one of those guys who was into gentle lovemaking, all missionary, lights out and whispers of "I love you" after each thrust and he was glad Cas wasn't either. The experience they had just shared had been perfect in its imperfection. After all, Dean had never had sex with another man, and Dean was pretty sure Cas had never had sex period, at least in a human sense. It had been messy, slightly awkward and in the end, completely enjoyable for both of them.

"So that was what the poets write about?" Cas joked. His demeanor was totally different than it had been a couple of hours ago. He was relaxed, grinning, and at ease in his post-coital bliss.

"I don't think that's what the poets were thinking about when they wrote about sex." Dean responded, with a smile. He reached over and took Cas's hand in his.

"It should have been. I get it now, Dean. I would have ripped my grace out a thousand times in order to experience that over and over again."`Cas said, sighing happily.

"So it was good for you?" Dean asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"It was perfect." Cas replied. "Absolutely perfect. I want to do it every day and in lots of different ways."

"You're perfect." Dean murmured, leaning over and kissing Cas in a way that was almost chaste. "Cas, buddy, you know that I love the shit out of you, right?"

"The shit?" Cas said, looking a little grossed out.

"It's an expression, you dummy. I dig you, Cas. I love you." He said.

For some reason it was easy for him to say it now, because actions really did speak louder than words.


	9. Chapter 9

Two months after Sam had been dragged to Hell and Bobby's body disappeared, Cas and Dean finally found some of the answers they had been searching for, and it came when they least expected it. They came when they weren't looking.

They were seated at the dining room table, eating dinner. Cas had discovered that he loved cooking after he watched an all-night Paula Deen marathon and had just prepared his first "real" dinner, which consisted of corn on the cob, turkey burgers, and cherry pie. Dean was a little wary to let Cas take over the kitchen, but he had insisted. Dean was glad he'd let him, because Cas was a damn fine cook.

"Cas, this pie looks and smells amazing. But be warned: you have a lot of pies to compete against, since I've eaten pies in every state in this great nation." Dean said, grinning at him.

"I used real cherries. Not that stuff that comes from a can. You can't beat fresh fruit." Cas said.

Suddenly there was a crash of thunder and a squealing, high pitched ring filled the room. Dean yelled and jumped under the table, holding his hands over his ears. Cas joined him under the table, his face contorted in pain as the ringing pierced their ears. Then as quickly as it started, it stopped.

"Well, look at this domestic scene you two have going on here. Quite nice, very Martha Stewart meets the trailer park." An unfamiliar voice said.

Dean crawled from underneath the table and stood up. A reedy blonde man wearing a suit and a smirk on his face was standing in their kitchen. Dean immediately knew what he was, but he didn't know who he was.

"Who the hell are you?" He snapped.

"Balthazar." Cas said, in a stunned voice.

Dean turned to face Cas, whose face was frozen in a look of shock and fear.

"Castiel! Good to see you again, brother!" Balthazar said merrily, walking forward and pulling Cas into a mighty bear hug.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Does someone want to explain this to me? What the hell are you doing here in our house? More importantly, where the hell were you Cas was praying for and summoning you for all those weeks? He prayed himself into the damn ground!" Dean yelled.

"Dean." Cas hissed. "Do yourself a favor and SHUT UP now."

"No, your boy toy has a point, dear 'Cas.' I will explain all, but first, let me get a look at you! It's been over 50 years!" Balthazar said cheerfully.

Cas stood there, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable, like he had just been caught sneaking a peek in the girls locker room or cheating on a math test.

"I must say, Castiel, humanity suits you well! Look at you! Cooking! Wearing Levis! Living the big gay American dream with your former charge! Also, that vessel also becomes you. I love what you've done with its hair." Baltazhar said, poking Cas on the head.

Dean felt his face heat up when Balthazar said the word "gay." He almost denied it, but angels are all-seeing, all-knowing, and also, the two of them were pretty damn obvious.

"Winchester, there's no need to deny it! There is nothing be ashamed of—you've nabbed yourself a fine, handsome ex-angel!" Balthazar said. "Now, enough small talk! I will explain my presence here. While we're at it though, let's just get this out of the way: if you try to kill me, bomb me with holy fire or send me away with those silly sigils you boys love so much, I will come back and rip your hearts out."

He was still grinning and jolly when he said that. Dean shuddered.

They went into the living room to talk. Dean almost offered Balthazar a beer, but decided against it. He and Cas sat down on the couch and Balthazar took Bobby's old love seat. Dean felt how stiff Cas was sitting next to him. He was suddenly worried about Cas's well being. He had been doing so well recently. He even had a job interview in town the next week. Things were just beginning to get so good, with Cas adjusting to human life and Dean thinking about hunting again, and then this asshole appears in their kitchen, interrupting their dinner and possibly sending Cas into the mental ward. Dean instinctively reached over and took Cas's hand to reassure him, but he snatched it away.

"As you boys know, you threw quite a wrench into Heaven and Hell's plans when you sent Lucifer and Michael's vessels tumbling into the cage." Balthazar said. "Tch, tch, bad Winchesters!"

"Their names were Sam and Adam, you ass!" Dean yelled.

Balthazar waved him off as if he were an annoying fly. "But you see, not everyone was too upset about it. In fact, some of us were overjoyed by your innovative idea to say bugger off to Michael and Lucifer. Some of us like this world the way it is. The world like this, well, it keeps things interesting and it prevents both sides from getting too big for its britches and controlling everything. I mean, can you imagine? A world run by angels. Buh-oring!" He crowed.

"What is your point?" Dean said angrily.

Cas shot him a warning glance. Apparently Cas was scared of this Balthazar guy. Or he was just scared of all angels now.

"My point being, is that there is a new sheriff in town upstairs. It took some fighting, okay, a lot of fighting, a lot of lives lost, and even more blood, but our side—the side that was rooting for you, Castiel—won. It was a short fight, but God, was it bloody! And the demons? Well, with our new chief and our eyes on this planet, let's just say they're hardly coming up here for air anymore." Balthazar said.

"Who's in charge in Heaven?" Cas asked eagerly. "Please Balthazar, tell me it's not…"

"It's not me, you bitch. I may not be a follower, but I'm also not interested in leading. Gabriel is our new leader. Let me tell you, it's fabulous having a guy who posed as a Pagan god for 1,000 years in charge. It's Team Free Will, each day, every day. To a certain extent, of course." Balthazar said.

"But Gabriel died." Dean said, "I saw Lucifer stick him with an angel blade and there was light, so much fucking light and then he gave me this creepy porn where he told me about Lucifer's cage and the horseman."

Balthazar stared at him for a minute, looking bewildered and slightly disgusted.

"Castiel, this guy? Really?" Balthazar said, shaking his head. "Anyway! You underestimated Gabriel. He knew he could not defeat Lucifer in a real fight. His brother was much stronger, especially on this plane. What you saw was what he does best, a trick! After that, he came to Heaven, came back after 1,000 years to right his wrongs. It took some coaxing, but he rallied those of us who were rooting for you, Castiel, and it there was a large contingent of us, believe me."

"Is Gabriel the new God?" Dean asked. "Is the one who brought Cas back?"

"Gabriel is not God. He knows this, which is one reason he is a good leader. Unfortunately, no, it was not Gabriel who resurrected Castiel. That honor goes to Raphael." Balthazar said.

"Why would Raphael bring me back? He hated me. He wanted me dead more than any of you." Cas cried. "Brother, that makes no sense!"

"That's where you're wrong, 'Cas', good old Raffie didn't want you dead. He wanted you to suffer. This was the worst punishment he could think of; trapping an all-powerful being in a human shell, a prison made of flesh. He wanted you to be helpless, to realize what you had lost when you rebelled." Balthazar said.

Cas sat there. He was once again stunned. His eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open dumbly. Dean could tell now that he had gotten his answers, they weren't what he expected, and not what he had wanted.

"Please tell me Raphael is dead." Dean said stonily. If he wasn't, Dean would make it his life's mission to hunt the bastard down for what he had done to Cas.

"As a doornail!" Balthazar said gleefully. "It was the funniest thing. We were actually losing the battle, 50 angels dead in one fight when finally, finally Gabriel was able get the jump on him by faking his own death yet again. Tell me, when will people stop falling for that old card? Anyway, he killed the bastard with his own blade. Oh God, Castiel it was the most beautiful thing! The look on that smug prick's face when the light left his body, it was priceless!"

"Raphael is dead." Castiel said numbly.

"Yes, and when Raffie went down, his forces just kind of… well, they gave up! Angels need a leader and now that leader is Gabriel." Balthazar said.

"How many of our brothers and sisters were lost during the fight?" Castiel whispered.

Suddenly Balthazar's face got serious.

"Hundreds upon hundreds. I hate to tell you that. The battle… it was never-ending. It was a civil war in Heaven. You see now why we never came when you prayed. Some of us wanted to, especially Mariel, and of course, me, but we could not. If we left, we might not be able to get back. And we couldn't stop fighting." Balthazar said gravely, finally being serious.

Cas sniffed and ran a hand through his hair anxiously. The look on his face was a cross between devastation and surprise. This time he reached for Dean's hand.

"Can I be restored?" Cas asked, looking away from Dean.

Dean gasped when he said that. It had never crossed his mind that Cas could be returned to his original self. He had never even considered the possibility that something like that could even be done. Dean knew that being on earth and living as a human was incredibly difficult for Cas, but he thought Cas was adjusting to it and learning to like his human life. The life he had with Dean.

Balthazar raised his eyebrows and looked directly at Dean, then at Castiel. He could tell that the angel was bracing them both for the answer he was about to give.

"Castiel, for years you were a patient servant of Heaven, and for years, we fought side by side. You are closer to my family than any other angel in Heaven. You were a great angel, and I can tell by how this human looks at you, that you are a great man. That is why it pains me to tell you this… but no, unfortunately, you are destined to live out your human life, and then die a human death." He said slowly.

Castiel let out an anguished cry. Dean looked down at his feet, feeling like a knife was being twisted into his gut. He hated himself for it, but he was actually glad Cas couldn't be restored to his angelic self, because if he was, Dean knew he would lose him. He could tell Balthazar could tell that Dean was thinking this, because he gave him a very dark look. At the same time, he also felt horrible that Cas wouldn't be able to return to Heaven until he died, because as Cas had said, it was his home. Dean felt the strangest mixture of relief, guilt, happiness, and anger. It was making him feel sick.

"Why not?" Dean asked slowly. "If Raphael has that kind of mojo, can't Gabriel just do the reverse of it?"

"I'm very sorry, but no. Raphael used very powerful magic to destroy Castiel's grace. Once it was gone, well, it was just that: gone. Destroyed. Lost forever. An angel is like any other creature, we can be killed reduced, but a human cannot become an angel. It just doesn't work that way. And that's what you are now… you are human. If we found a way, it would certainly kill Castiel, and it would be a painful, horrible death." Balthazar said soberly.

"Anna did it." Castiel said desperately.

"Anna didn't destroy her grace, Castiel. She simply… well, not simply, but she removed it. It was still out there. Yours is… gone and it cannot be restored, thus, neither can you." He said.

"So that's it, then." Cas mumbled. "Excuse me a minute, I need a moment alone." He stood up, pulling his hand away from Dean's and walked out of the room in a daze.

Dean stood up to go after him, but then Balthazar was in front of him, holding him down. "Let him be, Winchester." He hissed. "I know this tickles your fancy, but what Castiel is facing is unimaginable and he needs to deal with it by himself for a spell."

"You don't know what this has been like for him." Dean said. "Yeah, I'm happy that I am not gonna lose Cas, but you haven't been there every day like I have, seeing how much falling from grace, slowly becoming human is killing him."

"It's not killing him, Dean. Don't you see that? I never thought that it would turn out this way, but Castiel, well, he's handling it better than Raphael or any of us ever thought possible, which proves we are not all-knowing. He's adjusting, and honestly, I'm amazed he's not dead." Balthazar said.

"He's miserable." Dean said. "Are you blind, or just stupid? You didn't see that reaction just now?"

"No, he is not miserable. What he's going through is torture, but he is making it. He's making it because of you. For some reason, he sees something in you that makes this life forced upon him worth living." Balthazar said.

Dean thought about that for a moment. When the battle with Lucifer was done, Dean had wanted nothing more than to die. He had wanted it over so badly that he could taste the metal of the gun in his mouth every morning he awoke. But Cas had been there for him, held him together when nothing else could, and now he was sleeping soundly every night, waking up in the morning with some hope in his heart. He was here because of Cas, and it was so obvious to him. Was there a chance that he was the reason that Cas was still here too?

"Yes, there is a chance of that. It's more than a chance, you moron!" Balthazar said, literally slapping him upside the head.

"Ow!" Dean yelled. "You bastard! Angel strength! Don't forget that! Man, why are you guys always giving me so much crap?"

"Because you're just so cute, Winchester. We can't help but give you trouble." Balthazar said cheekily. "Well, I'm off. There's a brunette in Brazil I want to visit before I leave this realm."

"Wait!" Dean yelled, "One more thing."

Balthazar groaned and sat back down. "Let me guess: Sammy?"

"Yes, Sammy. I want to know what to do about Sammy and Adam. And I want to know what took Bobby's body. Cas said he felt something in the graveyard the night he came back." Dean said.

"You want Bobby's body? After all of this time? You know it won't be… preserved." Balthazar said, wrinkling his nose, evading the question about Sam.

"What the hell happened to him?" Dean asked desperately. "And Sammy, I need Sammy to come home."

"Bobby is in Heaven, Dean. He is not a ghost, he is not in Hell. He is with his wife, Ellen and Jo and he is happy. That's all you need to know. I check up on him sometimes because he was of such interest to you boys and dear Castiel." Balthazar said. "His body is gone."

"What took it?" Dean pressed. "Tell me now. Did Raphael take it?"

"Raphael did not take it. It was demons, and that's all I'll say. They were destroyed for what they planned to do with you and with him. Bobby was given a Hunter's funeral by one of my brothers." Balthazar said. "And I am not bringing him back. He died a warrior's death and an eternally happy life in Heaven with his loved ones is his reward."

Dean felt tears spring to his eyes. He didn't want to imagine what the demons had done with Bobby's corpse, nor did he want to imagine what they had planned to do to him. It had to be horrible.

"Sammy. Now we are going to talk about Sammy." Dean said gruffly.

"Getting Sam out of Lucifer's cage is a very difficult task, you must understand. It takes… great strength, strength one angel alone does not possess. Many of my brothers and sisters do not want him out. After all, it was Sam who released Lucifer in the first place." Balthazar said.

"Cas pulled me out. It was Cas and no one else." Dean cried. "And you've got archangels on your side now! Sammy and Adam have been down there for decades!"

"Sam is much deeper than you were, Dean. By pulling him out, we risk pulling Lucifer and Michael out too and that's a grave risk that we are not sure is worth facing. And with the war just ending… we are not sure we are up to the task." Balthazar said.

"You're freaking angels, man! There has to be a way! Find a fucking way! I cannot just leave Sammy down there!" Dean yelled. He was starting to get angry. He had forgotten how much he hated angels.

"You will pull Sam out." A gravelly voice said. Cas was back. "Sam is the reason that Gabriel came back. Sam is the reason you are sitting here, free to go visit that model in Brazil whenever you please."

Cas sat down on the couch. He had a blank expression on his face, but he was still alive and he was on Dean's side, which counted for everything.

"You don't understand, both of you, that I am not the bad guy here. If I could, I would bring Sam back. But I cannot do it alone and I do not have many others on my side." Balthazar said. He was beginning to look angry too, and he was not a guy Dean wanted on his bad side.

"You will find a way." Cas said in a steely way. "Even if it kills a few of you, you will find a way. You will do it because it is the right thing to do and because… you owe me, brother, and you owe the Winchesters."

Balthazar sat there for a minute. It was funny to see such a powerful being with no snappy comeback or words. He seemed to understand Cas, far more than he understood Dean. Maybe Balthazar and Cas really were like were brothers.

Finally, he spoke. "I will try to gather angels to my side. After all, I did once before. I cannot make any promises. Until then, you might try to contact Hell's new leader. He has a history with you and he might be feeling generous."

"Who is the new king? Is it someone like Lucifer?" Cas asked, looking fearful.

"He is nothing like Lucifer. He has actually economized Hell, made it less of a torture chamber, more like an endless line at Wal-Mart. He does not let demons out unless they are retrieving something for him personally. He likes all the souls on his side and he keeps them on a tight leash in order to preserve his spot on top. I believe you know him as Crowley." Balthazar said.

As quickly as Balthazar appeared, he was gone.

He turned to Cas. "Well, it looks like we'll be giving our old pal Crowley a call." He muttered.

"Goddamnit." Cas grumbled.


	10. Chapter 10

Although Dean didn't say it out loud, he was relieved about Balthazar's visit. The news about Cas was not what either of them had expected or wanted, but at least now Cas knew why he was back. Dean hoped now that Cas knew the truth, he would be able to move on with his life. He knew it wouldn't be easy. Cas would live and die as a human, and when he returned home, it wouldn't be as an angel. This had to be overwhelming and he just hoped that Cas would come to accept it.

Dean also felt a new hope for getting Sam out of Lucifer's cage. The truth was that so far, neither of them had found any leads. Dean had actually entertained the notion of summoning Crowley before, but he had been sure that the Demon was dead, or at least still in heading somewhere. Dean hadn't entertained the notion that Crowley would be out in the open, let alone crowning himself the new leader of the underworld. Although Dean wasn't a fan of any demon, he actually kind of liked Crowley. He had more sense than your average hell spawn and he had never tried to kill Dean or his brother. He had been a strange ally to have during the battle against Lucifer, but he had proved useful more than once. There may be a chance that Crowley felt he owed Sam, and Dean also knew that Crowley might be the only demon in all of Hell that would be willing to make a deal with him. He wasn't going to say anything about that second part to Cas though. He knew if Cas thought he was willing to make a deal, he wouldn't go along with any plan of Dean's.

"Well, that was unexpected." Cas said. Despite everything, they were trying to finish their dinner.

"So Balthazar was a close friend of yours?" Dean asked.

"He was one of my closest confidantes in Heaven." Cas said, nodding. "He always was a little more mischievous than your average angel and like Gabriel, he always thought more for himself. I'm not surprised he's risen in the ranks."

"You okay with the civil war part of it and everything?" Dean questioned. As soon as it came out of his mouth, Dean knew it was a stupid question. Of course Cas wouldn't be happy over the slaughter of thousands of his brothers and sisters, nor would he be happy about the prospect of war in Heaven.

"I never dreamed there were factions. Back then, I couldn't. I never dreamed of rebelling, nor did I think any other angel would." Cas said, shaking his head. "But I am glad that Gabriel is in charge and that Raphael is dead. I think it's for the best. It was time for a change. I really, well, I can't think too much about that right now. How are you?"

"I'm relieved to have some closure about Bobby." Dean admitted. "But I hope Balthazar wasn't lying. I hope Bobby truly is at peace. I wish I could have gotten at those demons myself though."

"Balthazar wouldn't lie about something like that, Dean. He may be many things, but he is not a liar. If he was, he would have told you he couldn't get Sam out, not given you his word to try to help or the hint about Crowley. He wouldn't have made any effort." Cas said.

Dean was sure trusted Castiel enough at this point to take his word about the angel.

"How do you think we go about summoning Crowley? He's the king of Hell now, so the spell is going to require more juice than your average spell for a crossroads demon." Dean wondered, amazed that he was actually considering summoning 'the New Lucifer.'

"I know a spell that may work." Cas said. He looked slightly ill as he admitted this.

"What? Cas, how?" Dean said. "Wait, did you know that Crowley was the new big wig down there? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Of course I didn't know, Dean!" He snapped, obviously offended by the insinuation. "I have been privy to as much information as you have been these last months. There is a specific spell for high ranking demons such as Crowley. I used it to summon Alastair."

"The time you had me torture the son of a bitch? When your angel buddy let him go and then he almost killed me?" Dean asked, shuddering at the memory of disemboweling Alastair while Cas watched.

"Yes, that time, Dean." Cas muttered. "Alastair was the de facto King of Hell, you know."

"Let's move on." Dean hissed.

He did not want to remember how Cas had asked him to torture Alastair. He didn't want to remember a time where Cas would ask him to do anything like that.

"Fine." Cas mumbled. "Anyway, we actually have most of the ingredients here. We'll need a lot of space, a very sturdy Devil's Trap, and well, blood. Your blood."

"How much blood?" Dean asked. He hated having to bleed for these bastards.

"Less than a liter. Not enough to kill you." Cas said.

"Less than a liter? Cas, that's a hell of a lot of blood!" Dean cried. "Not enough to kill me? You make it sound so easy."

"Easy? I never said it was easy. Why do you think I hesitated to tell you about this spell? Why do you think I haven't suggested something like this before? Dean, do you think I like the thought of bleeding you to summon something like Crowley?" Cas said, looking hurt.

Dean stared at Castiel. He looked so insulted. Dean couldn't help what he had said and the feelings of distrust that were now coursing through his veins. Cas bringing up Alastair had quickly created all sorts of negative energy between them. Dean was remembering the ice cold eyes of the angel when he had first entered Dean's life. He remembered Pamela's eyes burning out at the sight of Cas. He remembered when Cas was nothing but a soldier, and how emotionless he had been in the beginning. Dean remembered how easily Cas had put him up to something like torture just months after he escaped from Hell and how easy it had been for Cas himself to kill.

He's a totally different person now. He wasn't even a person then. He gave up everything for you and he's the reason you're here right now.

"I'm sorry, Cas. I didn't mean to be an asshole." He said softly.

Cas opened his mouth to say something, but appeared to brush it off. "The barn where you go to work on the cars should be large enough. We'll need something hardier than spray paint to keep Crowley contained though." He said instead, keeping them on point.

"Don't worry about the Devil's Trap. Bobby covered the entire barn and this house. He even carved them on the floor. After he was possessed and lost his legs for awhile, well, he was paranoid. There are devil traps on the hardwood floor beneath the carpeting in this house. Man, I love it when things are this easy." He said, smiling at the memory of him and Bobby 'decorating' the house with traps.

"Dean… I wouldn't call this easy. But if that is the case with the Devil's Traps, then we're on our way. I will go over the other cursory ingredients, then go pick anything else we might need up in town. Then…" Cas said.

"My blood." Dean finished. "We summon the new King of Hell tomorrow morning."

That night, Dean went to bed alone. Cas insisted on putting the 'batch' together to summon Crowley and then said he needed some time "alone with his thoughts," which meant in guy-language that he didn't want to be anywhere Dean. Although occasionally insensitive, Dean wasn't an idiot and could tell that their minor tiff earlier hadn't been what Cas needed on top of the news about Crowley, Heaven and of course, his spanking new humanity.

"I'm a dick." He said again into the dark, talking to no one in particular.

The next morning, he awoke and Cas was not in bed next to him, which was a first in the two months when they'd felt the need to start sharing one. Dean tried not to feel uneasy and when he went downstairs, he found Cas passed out at the kitchen table, head in his arms, a foul smelling concoction sitting in front of him. It was the juice they needed for Crowley, so of course it smelled like road kill. Dean was actually amazed that Cas could sleep next to something so disgusting smelling. Dean hoped that Cas had just been overwhelmed with exhaustion, and not that eager to spend the night away from him.

Dean shook his head and bent over and tickled Cas's ear. Cas stirred and lifted his head. He groaned when he saw Dean, or maybe it was just the smell of the Crowley mix. Dean hoped it was the latter.

"Hey sleepyhead." He murmured. He leaned over and planted a small kiss on his cheek and then his ear.

"God, that smells awful." Cas growled. "Why are you touching my ears? Stop!" He said, swatting at Dean like he was a pesky fly.

Dean grinned, since Cas seemed to be back to his usual cheery morning self, which meant he was dealing. "How are you doing?" He asked. "Good sleep?"

"No. It was an awful sleep. I slept at the kitchen table, Dean. What kind of an idiotic question is that?" Cas bitched. He was still unable to detect sarcasm sometimes, which was a trait Dean found charming.

Cas stood up and stretched, doing a few of the yoga stretches he'd learned from watching Youtube to get rid of the kinks created by a night of sleeping at a table. Unbelievably, Dean felt something in his pants stir. For some reason, bitchy Cas, their "fight" from the night before, and the sight of the drowsy ex-angel stretching and showing off the lithe human body, which apparently was all his now, made Dean kind of hot. He knew the timing was all wrong, that Cas was pissed and that they were about to summon Crowley and possibly die, but hell, what was another hour?

Dean sauntered over to Cas and pulled him close, placing his arms over his shoulders. "Hey buddy, you still mad at me?" He murmured, kissing him on the throat.

"No, Dean. Dean, what are you doing? We have to summon Crowley. Stop. Crowley. We have to summon him. I am in no mood." He mumbled, unable to finish a sentence. He tried to push Dean away, as to not succumb to his attempt at seduction. It hardly ever worked.

Dean grinned and moved his hands down Cas's back, powdering the side of his face with little kisses. "Cas, we might die. Come on, don't you want to—ya know—one last time in case we die?" He whispered.

"Dean." Cas groaned. "If you still have to refer to it as 'ya know' then you are not going to get anywhere with me. This is the worst possible timing. We have to summon Crowley. We need to…"

Dean planted another kiss on his throat, that same sensitive spot that was his weakness and Cas gave in to his advances. Suddenly, it was a battle of tongues and mouths, and before Dean knew it, Cas had him pinned against the counter where the night before they had stood peeling corn on the cob. Dean slid back onto the counter, astonished and completely turned by Cas's sudden dominance. He pushed his mouth onto Dean's, kissing him as if it were the last time they'd ever get the chance. Cas tugged at his belt buckle, literally ripping it out of the belt loops. He moved his mouth down Dean's neck, scraping his teeth against his skin, drawing what Dean was sure was blood. He gasped in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Suddenly Cas seemed to get one last burst of angel strength, which he used to tear Dean's shirt in half and to shove him back onto the counter hard enough that it hurt. Cas leaned over him, pulling off his pants in one swift motion. He pinned him to the counter with yet more of that that last burst of angelic energy. He gazed directly into Dean, his eyes red hot with lust and what Dean thought was rage.

"Is this what you want? One last fuck before we die?" He hissed. "Is this what you want, Dean?" He nipped at his throat and kissed him hungrily.

"Cas— Oh God, no. Unnnnnghh. Holy fuck." He moaned as Cas's mouth moved southward, doing something that could only be described as "divine."

It took longer than an hour, but when it was over, Dean was covered in bruises and bites from Cas's sudden turn to the dark, yet totally hot, side. As they stalked out to the barn and Dean noticed he was actually sore. Like, he was sure he was limping and there were bruises in places where he wasn't used to having bruises, like his inner thighs.

"Cas?" He started.

"Let's get this demonic asshole. He'll deal. I will make him fucking deal." Cass hissed. He turned his head to Dean. "Get ready to get your brother back."

Dean figured he was ready to summon Crowley.


	11. Chapter 11

Dean bent over, covering every opening in the barn with salt. He grimaced. He wasn't used to preparing to keep demons trapped in with him. Usually he wanted to keep demons out. But they needed Crowley to be ready to talk. They needed him to listen. They couldn't let him leave until he agreed to bring Sam and Adam back.

Cas was situated in the middle of the barn, spraying a fresh devil's trap on top of one that was carved into the cement and covering the floor with the ingredients he'd put together the night before. The barn was already covered, but Cas insisted that the more the better. Dean figured he'd let Cas do whatever he wanted. After all, he was the one who'd worked this spell before. He was also a little nervous of Cas after their session in the kitchen and didn't want to interrupt him.

Dean sighed and poured the salt over the last window. He turned. Cas stood in the middle of the room clutching a gnarly looking knife; the knife that was going to use on Dean.

"You got the demon knife?" He asked Cas, trying to put off the inevitable bloodletting.

"Yes. It's beside me. You got the Colt?" Cas asked.

Dean hadn't used the Colt since their disastrous meeting with Lucifer that had resulted in the deaths of Ellen and Jo. Cas had insisted they bring it since it had two bullets left.

"Yeah. Better safe than sorry, I guess. Cas, I really don't think Crowley will try to kill us." Dean said.

"He's not a demon in hiding anymore. He's the King of Hell. I'd say all bets are off on Crowley." Cas replied.

He had a point. Maybe Dean was stupid to have any kind of sentimentality toward the demon.

"Are you ready for this?" Cas asked, gesturing with the knife. He was clutching it so hard his fingers were white.

"More than I'll ever be. Go easy." He warned. He pulled up his sleeve and held his forearm out to Cas.

Cas didn't respond and grimaced as he cut into the veins in the crease of Dean's elbow. He caught Dean's eyes and they were full of sorrow. He knew Cas didn't want this. Dean shuddered as the blade cut into him. The blood began seeping out quickly. Dean held his arm over the trap and Cas's ingredients and Cas began to chant in Latin.

"This better work." Dean muttered to himself. He was sick of bleeding. He used his free hand to finger the Colt, which was in the waistband of his jeans.

Minutes, later, Cas finished chanting and unsurprisingly, the barn began to quake. Dean felt sick. He hadn't missed this at all.

"Dean, that's enough." Cas called. "Get away from the trap."

Dean stepped away. Cas immediately came over and held a makeshift tourniquet over the wound. Dean cringed. Cas clutched his arm.

"Do you feel faint? Do you want me to do the talking?" Cas whispered.

"I'm okay, Cas. I promise. I've lost more blood than that before. Way more blood." He said.

To Dean's surprise, Cas leaned in and placed a long kiss on his lips. It was far tenderer than what he had experienced in the kitchen the hour before.

"Get ready." Cas whispered, his lips lingering on Dean's. "Our life is about to get a lot less peaceful."

Dean trailed his fingers over Cas's cheek. "I love you so much." He murmured into Cas's ear.

"Winchester! Fancy seeing you here! What took you so long?" An obnoxious British accent sang. Clearly, Crowley had arrived.

Dean pulled away from Cas and stalked over to the demon. Crowley stood there, clad in a tuxedo, his hair and facial hair remarkably groomed for someone who was now in charge of Hell.

"Crowley." He growled, in way of greeting.

"My, my, Dean. You look well. Who's the new piece?" Crowley said, smirking.

Cas slunk over and stood next to him. Dean thought Crowley's eyes would explode at the sight of Castiel by how much they widened, which would make talking to him harder, but killing him much easier. Right now, Dean wasn't sure what he wanted more.

"C-c-castiel? How the hell are you alive? I thought Lucifer exploded you into tiny little bits!" Crowley exclaimed.

"I'm back." Cas said. He didn't mention that he was human.

For one second, Crowley looked terrified, and then an easy smile slid onto his face. Dean gulped. That smile was not good.

"Is that a soul I smell on you, boy? Are you human? And you're in love? With HIM?" Crowley said, his grin growing wider. "Playing on my side now, Winchester? I mean, the angel—the human, I mean—I always thought maybe. But you?"

Crowley bent over in the trap, burst out laughing. He was laughing so hard, he literally slapped his knee.

"Oh my God, well, not my God, but still, that is rich! Castiel: HUMAN! Dean Winchester: GAY! I've sure missed a lot in the last few months." He bellowed. "I knew I missed this plane!"

"That's none of your damn business, Crowley! We are not here to talk about my love life. We are here to talk about my brother!" Dean yelled.

Somehow Crowley laughing in their faces made him less afraid, more ready to kill. He glanced over at Cas, who was so tense that he looked like he might pop. He knew Crowley's reaction had readied him too.

Crowley wiped his eyes. The demon had actually been laughing so hard he had shed tears. He attempted to step forward and then stopped.

"Oh, come on, Dean. A Devil's Trap?" He said. He sniffed the air. "Salt? I thought we were buddies!"

"I don't trust you, Crowley. Now, I hear you're the guy in charge now. Big promotion! Now, Sam and Adam. Their souls are in Lucifer's cage. We are here to get them out." Dean said.

"Yes, I do believe that little Sammy and Adam are still stuck in there. Michael and Lucy are not happy with them. Not that I blame them! But I do send my thanks to dear old Sam for the 'big promotion'! He sure saved my ass!" Crowley said.

"You owe Sam, and us, everything. Your new power. The angels not killing you. It's because of us." Cas said.

"So I should let them out of the cage out of the goodness of my heart?" Crowley said. "Oh come on, Castiel! You can do better than that!"

"Can you do it?" Dean asked.

"You know, I don't go near that part of Hell because it still is Lucifer's after all, but I take a peek in every now and then. Last week, I caught a part of the show. Sam's head on a pike, pieces on the floor! Adam in chains, his heart missing. It was quite a sight! It looks like Lucy and Michael have put their differences aside now that they have Winchesters to torture." He crowed, his eyes sparkling, his grin widening.

"You bastard!" Dean screamed, his vision going red. "Crowley, can you fucking do it!?"

"Of course I can, Dean-o. It won't be easy, but after all, I am the King of Hell! I have been waiting for you to ask me. I was just going to tell you no, simply for the look on your face, but then I saw that you'd brought me a present. An exchange! Oh, how exciting. I haven't made a deal in so long." He said.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean said. "You want me? Take me. Just let them out!"

Cas gasped. "Dean, no!" He cried.

Crowley just laughed again. "Oh no, buddy boy, I'm not talking about you. You may have been Alastair's favorite, but I have absolutely no use for you. I'm talking about him." He pointed at Castiel.

Dean's eyes widened. Cas? He wanted Cas?

"You do realize that there has never been an opportunity like this for any demon before. Your boyfriend there, he's an angel who's newly human, ripe with a fresh soul that's just waiting to be picked!" Crowley said.

"Never! You are not taking Cas! His soul is not up for sale!" Dean snarled.

"But imagine, Dean! You could have Sammy and Adam, fresh from Hell, sitting all dewy-eyed and alive on your doorstep. The Winchesters, together as one big, miserable family again. One soul for the price of two! Normally I wouldn't make such a deal, but God, him? Deal of the century!" Crowley sang.

"No! That's not happening!" Dean yelled.

"Dean, wait." Cas said. He took a step forward. "Crowley, if I came with you, would both Sam and Adam be freed? Their souls intact? The memories of Hell stowed away where they could never get out?"

"Memories wiped. Made like new. After all, this is the deal of the century." Crowley repeated. "All it'd take is a little kiss on the lips."

"Cas, no!" Dean cried. "This is not the way!"

Dean grabbed Cas by the arm and took him to the edge of the barn. He knew Crowley would still be able to hear them, but he wanted some form of privacy with him before Cas did something astronomically stupid.

"Cas, what the hell?" He hissed. "You are not making a deal with Crowley. You realize what they'd do to you down there? It'd make my stop, Sam's stop, look like Disneyland. You're a freaking ex-angel, Cas! The demons would tear you to pieces!"

Cas pulled him in close and rested his head against Dean's forehead. He breathed deeply, as if he were breathing Dean in, trying to capture his essence. He leaned in and kissed him deeply before saying anything.

"I knew this would happen." He said finally, his eyes on the ground.

"What? Why didn't you say anything?" Dean murmured. He felt tears spring to his eyes. This explained everything now. Cas's anger, his behavior in the kitchen, his desperation.

"I may be human now, Dean, but I've still been alive for a few millennia now. Demons have always talked about this. An angel to flay in Hell. It's their ultimate fantasy, besides getting God himself down there. It was just never possible, at least not until now. I'm not stupid, I knew this is what Crowley would want." He murmured.

"Cas, no." He whispered. "I won't let you. I need you. I need you alive. I need you here with me. I could never let you..."

"Dean, this is the only way. Unless Balthazar can figure something out, I can't think of any other way for this to go down." Cas said.

"We aren't making any deals like that, Cas, you big, stupid idiot. Not like this." He said, clutching onto Castiel for dear life.

"Sam and Adam are in Hell, Dean. What Crowley just told you, it's probably the least painful torture they are receiving at Michael and Lucifer's hands. They've been down there for 40 years. You can't imagine it. Maybe this is why I was brought back, really. I was brought back to save Sam and Adam. Brought back to prevent you from doing something stupid like killing yourself before this could take place." Cas whispered.

"No." Dean murmured. "Never, Cas. Let's at least talk to Crowley. See if there is anything else."

Cas shook his head, but reached over for Dean's hand. They walked back over to Crowley, who looked more irritated than amused now.

"Enough time to kiss and say goodbye, boys? I have things to do, you know. King of Hell! Big important list of things to do!" He hollered.

"We need time." Cas said, taking charge of the situation. "Is that fair to you? Can you give us a day or two to decide? To say goodbye, if need be?"

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Fine! I'll give you two days! Now let me out of here!" He screamed. Clearly he wasn't used to be trapped anywhere these days.

"Two days." Cas said. "Then we'll summon you."

"If I don't hear from you, I'll assume that little Dean has chosen his boy toy over his flesh and blood. Two days! Now get to chanting and let me out of here!" Crowley yelled.

Cas closed his eyes and muttered a few key phrases of Latin and suddenly Crowley was gone. He opened his eyes, which looked grave and defeated. Dean was no longer full of righteous anger or even the urge to kill Crowley. He just felt numb, empty. Two days to decide whether or not he'd choose Cas, who was the love of his life, or his brothers, his family and bloodline, who were burning in the Pit.


	12. Chapter 12

Once they were safe inside the house, far from Crowley, Dean let the floodgates open. He didn't think he had ever raged or screamed more in his life.

He hurled a lamp at the wall, where it shattered less than a foot from where Castiel was standing.

"Cas! You fucking moron! What the fuck is wrong with you?" He screamed.

"We have no other choice!" Cas cried, jumping to avoid the lamp. "You want Sam back? This is it, Dean! This is the only way!"

"Get Balthazar down here! Tell him to go get Sam! This is not the way, Cas! This is not the fucking way we are going to do things anymore! No more fucking deals with demons!" He screamed. He was yelling so hard, he felt like the blood vessels in his face were going to explode.

"So you get to make a deal? You are allowed to jump straight back into Hell, but not me? How do you think that made me feel, seeing how eager you were to get back on the rack, yet knowing it was me he wanted?!" Cas yelled.

Dean stood there, unbelievably angry with the ex-angel. "You knew all along. You've known since the beginning. You knew that the only way we'd get Sam and Adam back was to give them you! You planned this!" He fumed.

"No, Dean. I suspected that if we went the way of demons, that this would be the only way. That is why Balthazar told us about Crowley. You think I want to go to Hell? You think I want to leave you? No! But this is the only way!" He howled, falling to his knees.

Dean stopped yelling. Suddenly the unbearable pain, the potential of losing Cas hit him like a pile of bricks. He rushed over to his side and pulled him into his arms.

"Cas, Cas, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I just can't lose you. I cannot lose you too, Cas. I couldn't bear it. I need you, baby. I can't live without you. We will find another way." He sobbed, clutching him close.

Dean pulled him off the floor and took him over to the couch where he'd comforted him the day Cas couldn't open the pickles. They'd been through so much together in the last four months and their life was far from perfect, but it couldn't end this way.

They lay there for awhile, holding each other like the first night they'd realized there were feelings there, that they weren't alone in the world. The first night they'd realized they'd needed each other. Dean wanted this to last forever, not two more days. He'd just found Cas, he couldn't lose him now.

Finally, Cas spoke. "Dean, we have two days together. Let's not fight." He whispered.

"No, we have longer than two days. We have the rest of our lives, and then eternity wherever the hell it is guys like us go. I'm not letting you do this. I won't. We will find another way. I promise you, Cas." He leaned in and kissed him on the forehead.

Suddenly, another obnoxious voice broke up a moment between the two of them.

"Really, you threw a lamp at him? A lamp? What are you, Dean, Bobby Brown?" A smirking Gabriel said.

Dean looked up and met the eyes of Heaven's new leader. He sighed. It was really a day for dealing with douche bags.

"Castiel. You're looking… well, pretty terrible." Gabriel said. He sauntered over to the couch and looked down at them. He shook his head. "The two of you right now, I swear, you look like sad puppies. You're two little puppies who were just kicked repeatedly by a big mean demon."

"What do you want, Gabriel?" Castiel muttered. "We're trying to enjoy our last two days together. Please give us that."

"You really have become a pessimist in your new skin, Castiel. Also, you hardly look like you're enjoying yourselves." Gabriel said. "Sit up. Quit slobbering all over each other. I can't stand it."

Dean straightened up, wiped his eyes. "Why are you here, Gabriel? Or should I call you Loki? Or are you going by God now?" He said.

Gabriel waved his hand dismissively. "I am not God. Hardly! I'm much more fun than that old kook!" He said. "Besides, God wouldn't bother showing up in this… shack... you two share to help right all of the wrongs in your world? I think not."

"What do you mean?" Cas said brokenly.

Gabriel ambled over to the loveseat and sat down. He bent forward, face cupped in his hands, suddenly looking much more serious.

"You two really are broken, aren't you? Trusting a demon like Crowley more than Heaven? And you, Castiel, you really think this is your only option? I thought you had more fight in you. I thought both of you did." He said seriously.

"Balthazar said…" Cas started.

"What are you implying, Gabriel? Please. Anything you can offer." Dean interrupted.

Dean trusted and believed in Balthazar about as far as he could throw him, which wasn't far. Somehow the man who had killed him hundreds of times for laughs was looking like the best option right now.

"Heaven owe you a debt." Gabriel said. "Both of you."

"You do?" Castiel asked stupidly.

"Yes." Gabriel said. "You said it to Balthazar yourself, Castiel. The new regime, both upstairs and downstairs, is happening because of you, Dean, Sam, and Bobby. It happened because you rebelled. You started the war when you chose this human over your family. Your rebellion was our battle cry."

Cas looked like he might throw up when Gabriel said that. Somehow Dean knew that having the deaths of thousands of angels suddenly placed on his shoulders was not something that Cas needed. Luckily Gabriel realized this.

"Castiel, I don't mean to put it in those terms. But it was you who inspired the angels to think for themselves. Then when Raphael made you human just to torture you, many angels realized that he wasn't who they wanted in charge." Gabriel said.

"Brother, I don't understand. How is it better? How can you help us?" Cas asked, his voice exhausted.

"Trust me. I am a better leader than Raphael. Things are better up there now. Crowley is a cad, yes, but things are better in Hell too. Notice that there are essentially no demons wandering earth? This is all for the best. I swear this to you." Gabriel said.

Cas just shook his head. In that simple gesture, Dean saw that Gabriel was right about one thing: Cas was broken. Dean hadn't realized how broken he was, how he truly did see going to Hell as his only choice for righting the wrongs in their lives. He knew Cas was getting better, but it was still a very long time coming. He realized this now and was regretting all of the words that had come out of his mouth in the barn and when they'd gotten back to the house.

"I'll show you." Gabriel said simply. He stood up and came over to Cas. He leaned forward and put his finger on his forehead.

Cas gasped and suddenly his eyes were filled with white light. Somehow, maybe because he knew Cas so well, he realized that Gabriel was showing him the war, the angels who had fought on Castiel's behalf, and what things were like now in Castiel's old home. It only lasted a few seconds, but when Gabriel pulled his finger away, Cas's expression was much different.

"Balthazar is an idiot." Gabriel said plainly. "I saw how he spoke to you, how crass he was about the war, about your… situation with Sam and Adam. He offered no viable solutions. Getting Sam and Adam out isn't a cake walk, but it is not impossible. We are also not unwilling. When I found out he told you that we wouldn't help you, I nearly damned him to Hell myself."

"You will help us?" Dean whispered.

"I was planning on dropping by sooner than this, but you know… a King's work is never done. But then I saw that you went to Crowley and had to come by." He said, shaking his head.

Gabriel stared at Cas and plucked something from his thoughts. "Christ, Balthazar is the one who told you to go to Crowley? I really should send him to TVLand for awhile." He said, looking angry for the first time.

Gabriel sat back down. "Moving on from that idiot, then. As I said before, we owe you. Not everyone thinks Sam should come back, true, but I am a big believer in second chances. I mean, I have to be right? Hell, I disguised myself as a Pagan God for 1,000 years before going home for mine, right?" He said.

"What can you do?" Cas asked, sitting up a little straighter.

"Exactly what you did, Castiel. Snatch the Winchesters from Hell. I will go down into the Pit, look at those two bastards I call brothers in the faces, and bring them home to you." He said, sitting back with a smile on his face.

"You'll do it? You?" Dean asked in disbelief.

Gabriel shook his head. "You were right about me being scared to face my family, Dean. You were right all along. I have faced them now, and things are better than I thought possible. Facing Lucifer and Michael and taking away their favorite chew toys is my last step in that process. Funny how it took a human and a fallen angel to make me realize this." He said.

"When?" Dean asked. "You're sure you can do it?"

"Of course I can, Dean! After all, you said it yourself, I'm kind of like the new God! Lucifer's trapped, powerless, and so is Michael. With the power of Heaven at my back, I have more than enough strength to take those two pricks on now." Gabriel said.

Then with a rustle of his wings, and a hint of cocky-bastard dust too, Gabriel was gone.

"I can't believe it." Cas said as soon as Gabriel disappeared. "I honestly cannot believe it."

"Cas, buddy, are you okay?" Dean asked slowly.

Cas turned to him. His face was still stunned, but the pain was gone from his face. He didn't say anything, just grabbed Dean and gave him a sloppy, disgusting kiss right on the mouth. He released him and then Dean heard something magical, Castiel was laughing. It wasn't a chuckle either. It was raucous, uncontrollable laughter. It was the first time he'd ever heard Castiel laugh like that, as an angel and as a human. It was absurd, and it also made Dean feel better about everything. It was the best sound he'd ever heard.

"I can't believe it!" Castiel yelped. He jumped off the couch and actually jumped up and down, as if he'd just won the lottery.

"Dean. He's going to do it! I was wrong. You were wrong. We were idiots to go to Crowley! I cannot believe it!" He reached down and grabbed Dean and twirled him around like they were at prom or something.

"Cas! God! I do not dance! I do not ever dance!" He cried.

Cas pulled him into a hug, a bear hug to be exact. He kissed him again, still laughing, his usually stormy blue eyes light and happy for the first time pretty much ever.

"What did he show you, Cas?" Dean whispered, curling his chin up to his for yet another kiss.

"Everything." Cas said. "Oh God, Dean. It was horrible. I saw so many of my brothers and sisters dying. I saw Raphael torturing Mariel. I saw Balthazar stabbing one angel after another. I saw Gabriel slaughtering Raphael."

"That's… what he showed you?" Dean said slowly. It didn't seem like something like that would make Cas dance and laugh.

"No! There was more. He showed me Heaven, the way it is now, the way it will be from now on, and how the bloodshed, my rebellion changed everything. Changed it for the better and now Heaven is a place my father can be proud to call his own. Finally, he showed me you. He showed me us, years from now, old and hobbling, walking a dog. He showed me our life together and that was the best part, Dean. That was the best part." He whispered, words coming out in a rush.

Dean nodded slowly. He knew angels could see the future, bend time and that the future was theirs for the taking, but was that really possible? He and Cas together until their twilight years? Dean could make a relationship last that long? Cas would stay human for that long? An even better question, would the two of them really live that long?

"Yes, Dean. We will live that long."

"What are you, a mind reader?" Dean grumbled.

"Only yours." He murmured.


	13. Chapter 13

Dean and Cas expected Gabriel to check in with them about his trip to Hell. He had appeared and disappeared so quickly, talked so large, that they half expected Sam and Adam to appear in their living room that same day. Dean knew they were idiots to believe in miracles, or at least idiots for expecting them to happen quickly. The day after Gabriel's visit, with no word for over 24 hours, Dean began to feel uneasy again.

"He's not God." Cas said to Dean over dinner that night. "He was right about something, Dean. It is not an easy task to extricate two souls from Lucifer's cage, not even easy for an archangel."

Dean picked at his pasta, something Cas had prepared from a recipe courtesy of the Barefoot Contessa.

"Cas, tell me, when you pulled me out… how long did it really take? How difficult was it? We've spent all this time together, but you have never told me about it." He asked.

"I always wished you wouldn't ask." Cas said. "Dean, it is not a pleasant thing for you to hear or for me to tell."

"Please Cas. Hearing about it from you, the only possible person who would have any idea about it, will make me feel better about the time it's taking to hear from Gabriel or to see Sam again." Dean said.

"We do not have normal dinnertime conversation." Cas said, looking grim. "Okay, I'll tell you."

Over the next 20 minutes, Cas regaled Dean with the delightful tale of his trip into Hell and what it took to get him out. He spared no details, not prettying it up for Dean at all. Dean wasn't sure if he appreciated that or not. The way Cas told the story, it had taken him 5 years to find Dean, which meant around two weeks in earth time. Cas went through several layers of Hell to find Dean, where he witnessed awful torture and felt Demons nipping at his grace the entire time. The torture Cas described made Dean feel sick, mostly because they reminded of him of the tortures he had inflicted upon others. Around the 12 minute mark, Dean was near tears and was about to tell Cas to stop.

"Then I saw you, Dean. I saw you there and I knew that my journey was worth it." Cas said, almost wistfully, which almost made Dean laugh.

"How bad was it?" Dean asked, his voice quivering.

"At first, to be blunt, I was not sure I had the right soul. You were… well, you were an animal. The things you were doing had me convinced that you could not be the man God wanted. " Cas said.

Dean felt a coppery taste fill his mouth. Just hearing Cas tell this story was enough to make him literally hurl. The memories were so clear to him now. He had been an animal. He was an animal who deserved to be down in Hell for eternity. The things he done down there.

"Then you looked at me, and I saw into your soul, and I knew no matter what you had done, you could be redeemed. I came for you and you attempted to attack me. You were so conditioned to fight, to kill, that it was no wonder. You truly didn't believe I was there to save you. Of course, I overpowered you, but you put up a fight!" He said, almost laughing.

Dean nearly punched Cas for laughing at this. Cas stopped and caught his gaze. He reached across the table and brushed his fingers across Dean's face.

"I'm sorry, I told you, this was not a tale you wanted to hear." He murmured. He stood up and leaned across the table and kissed him on the forehead, all sage, like he had his wings again.

"I flew you out of there as quickly as I could. I don't know if you realize this, but Hell is amorphous. It changes constantly. The way in was not the same way out. It took me nearly another 5 years to simply find my way back out." He said.

Cas had spent 10 years in Hell for him. Yet another debt, another thing Cas had gone through for him. Another thing he could never repay.

"For the first 2 years, you fought constantly. You screamed about how you deserved this, how this is where you belonged, and you cried about Alastair. You were afraid he'd find out you were gone. It was tragic, how scared you were. Then around year 3, you started begging me to take other souls instead of yours. It finally sunk in for you that I was taking you home. You didn't think you deserved it. You sometimes still think this way now." Cas murmured, shaking his head.

"So what happened then?" Dean asked.

"You quit fighting around the end. Sometimes you were so quiet that I thought you somehow had died. But you hadn't. You had accepted my help. Then… you were whole. Sometimes I wish I hadn't left you in that godforsaken box in the middle of nowhere, but I didn't know what else to do. I honestly hadn't thought that far ahead." Castiel said.

"Wow." Dean muttered. It was all he could say.

Dean had never considered what a struggle it had been for Cas simply to find him, let alone get him out. He had always wondered, in the back of his mind, what it had been like for both of them.

"Why don't I remember that?" Dean asked. "I remember everything else about Hell, but I don't remember one thing about you coming for me."

"The other angels erased your memory. It was somewhat of an insult to me to have that entire experience wiped from your mind, but at the time I could do nothing but obey. I wanted them to erase everything else, but 40 years of torture can only be muddled, not erased." He said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

"What about Sammy? Will Gabriel be able to help him forget?" Dean asked. He had wanted Sam back so badly that he hadn't thought too much about what the experience would do to him when he was back.

"Gabriel will do his best, but we will have to be here. For both of them." Castiel said. "I told you when we summoned Crowley, that the peaceful part of our lives was over. It appears that I was right."

"It's a small price to pay though, Cas. Imagine if we were on deadline with Crowley right now." He said feebly.

Cas smiled at him. "I know. Human life is never easy, it is never perfect, and it is not paradise. The gifts we have been given after everything that happened are great. It's rough, but I would say that this is exactly how things should be going for us."

"Yeah, I guess I got you out of this whole debacle. Not a bad gift at all." Dean said.

He did the dishes that night and promised to cook dinner the next night. After hearing about how Cas had literally gone to Hell and back for him, he figured it was the least he could do.

That night, Dean had nightmares again. For weeks now, his head had been a quiet place because Cas had been there to keep him anchored. The images of Hell, of flayed skin, screaming souls, and the endless black and green of the Rack were vivid in his mind. He dreamed of Sam's head on a pike and Adam's disemboweled torso. He saw Lucifer and Michael laughing at him, laughing at the entire Winchester clan.

He woke up screaming, sweat pouring from his pores. When he opened his eyes, he could still see Hell and for a second he was convinced that his skin was glistening with blood and not perspiration. Then he felt Cas shaking him, bringing him back to earth.

"Dean, Dean! Oh God, I shouldn't have told you about what happened. I brought it all back. I made you have these nightmares. I'm so, so sorry." He cried.

Dean clutched Cas, grateful to be back in Bobby's house, back in Cas's arms, grateful to be out of his own head.

"No, no, Cas, I needed to hear that. Don't apologize. You're here, that's all that matters." He whispered, burying his face into Cas's chest.

Cas held him closely, rocking him like he was a fussy child, kissing his cheeks, his lips, whispering into his ear, telling him that it was going to be okay. That soon, everything was finally going to be okay. They had to be. They had an archangel, the guy in charge of Heaven on their side. They wouldn't have to make any deals with demons. Crowley was no longer in the picture. This is what Dean kept telling himself even after Cas fell back asleep and quit whispering reassurances in his ear.

_It has to be okay._ He thought, staring at the ceiling, Hell still clear as day in front of his eyes.

Two more days passed without any word from the angels. Despite the fact that Cas's tale of getting him out of the pit illustrated to Dean that raising someone from Hell was an insanely difficult feat, he still felt trapped. He couldn't stand not knowing. He wanted answers now, he wanted Sam back now. He knew he shouldn't feel this way, especially since he and Cas had gone months with answers, but he couldn't help it.

Dean didn't exactly trust the angels, especially Gabriel, who had killed him hundreds of times, or Balthazar, who had told them to summon Crowley. Why should they trust angels? After all, angels had wanted the apocalypse. Angels had used him and Sam as pawns in their own game. Angels had ripped out Cas's grace and forced him to fall slowly and painfully into a human life. Right now, angels were torturing his brothers. When angels have destroyed your life, Dean wondered why he was expected to trust them, why he should put his faith in them at all.

The truth was that he trusted demons more.

On the third day, Dean couldn't stand it anymore. Crowley's "deadline" had passed and Cas was still here, safe and sound, so Dean figured it was somewhat safe to summon the demon again. He knew Cas would never be okay with this, so he wanted until the ex-angel was out running errands. He knew Cas would find out somehow, but he'd deal with that when it was over. Right now, Dean just needed answers. He needed to do something besides sit on his ass and wait for Gabriel to pop back in.

Dean had not sprinkled more than three drops of his blood, when the demon appeared in front of him. The King of Hell was wearing a sparkling black tux that was matched with a scrubbed white shirt and gold cuff links with a C embossed on them. He looked like he was going to a ball. When he manifested, he actually gave Dean a small bow, before giving him his telltale smirk.

"Looking sharp." Dean said darkly.

"Ah yes. I'm the belle of the ball! Even in Hell!" Crowley said dramatically. "But enough about me. I'm not sure why I'm here. Dean, Dean, Dean. I'm sure you're aware that our little deadline has already passed."

"You are not getting Cas. I want to talk about what other options there are." Dean said.

"There is no other option. You don't get little Sammy and Adam without giving me Castiel's soul. You should know that, Dean. I may have been King of the Crossroads, but that doesn't mean I negotiate." Crowley said.

"Who else can help me, then? Tell me, who else might be willing to make a deal with me? You might not be willing to help me out of the 'goodness' of your heart, but you owe me at least a shot at another guy. Come on, Crowley." Dean said, somewhat desperately.

"Dean-o, I've always liked you. You're blunt, honest, and you'll do anything to save your brother's skin. It's almost admirable, really, how you're willing to kill yourself for the people you love." Crowley said, smirking.

"Isn't there anything you want besides Cas?" Dean asked.

"No, and neither would any other demon. Except no demon has the power to pull your brothers out. Even if they could… well, they wouldn't without dragging you and Cas down to the pit in their place. I'm at least nice enough to spare you that mess again."

"What if I could get you another angel? Like… the angel?" Dean said. He was really getting desperate.

"Enticing, but you forget: angels do not have souls, thus they are useless to me. That's why your boy Cas is so appealing to me. Oh the things I could do to him… and the way that bringing him down would secure my position." Crowley said, almost looking wistful.

Dean stared at Crowley, the cocky look on his face. Crowley liked being in charge, that much was obvious. He liked the feeling of that crown on his head. Crowley wanted to kill and torture Cas simply to secure his position. He didn't think Crowley was even too keen on torturing him, at least not right now. He just wanted to feed Cas to his minions. His minions would never question him if he was able to bring them an angel to torture. They'd think he was a miracle worker. They'd think they were due for a lifetime supply of souls like Castiel's. That was the only reason Crowley wanted him. Somehow a demon whose only intent was to cause destruction was more honorable, suddenly more tolerable than Crowley. Once again, Dean wanted him dead.

"Dean. I don't have all day. What is the point of this?" Crowley said, beginning to look irritated again.

"There has to be something, Crowley." He said desperately. "Come on."

"Nothing you have, except that baby-faced boy angel of yours, is worth anythign to me." Crowley said firmly. Then a devilish look crossed his face. "How about this for a game changer? Want to hear about what Sam was up to last night? Oh man, it sure was a party in the cage!"

"Shut up." Dean growled. "It doesn't make any difference."

"Mikey and Lucy, well, last night they were feeling particularly mischievous! One of our traditionalists, one that I don't intend to let live much longer, fed the archangels the soul of a child. Oh my, we don't get children down there too often, but this mother, she made a hell of a deal! What a sweet treat!" Crowley said, his eyes twinkling.

"Shut. Up." Dean hissed.

"Little Adam, well, he gave in immediately. He's smart, you see, learned to work with them! For that reason, he's almost one of the gang now! You should have seen it. Sam's arms were gone, just these bleeding stumps, and the boys had him tied to the cage with boiling metal chains. Sammy had to watch as Adam tortured and molested this soul. This innocent little 4 year old soul, the girl was screaming out, actually screaming for her mommy! Can you imagine the irony there?" Crowley crowed.

"Shut the fuck up!" Dean screamed. "No more. Get out of here!"

Crowley wasn't done yet. "Anyway, as Adam 'did his thing' so to speak, Lucy cut off Sam's eyelids with a scalpel, so he'd have to watch his brother, the brother he dragged down with him, do this to a whimpering child. Michael found this hilarious, but not painful enough, so he slowly began to cut out Sam's heart…" Crowley said.

Suddenly Dean heard the barn door slam open. He spun, to see Cas standing there, fists clenched, eyes burning. If he had been an angel, Dean knew innately that Cas may have killed both him and Crowley where they stood.

"Crowley." Cas growled.

Cas approached the circle and began muttering in Latin. Crowley burst out laughing and saluted Dean and then he was gone.

"Cas-" Dean started. "Cas, I'm sorry, I just…"

Cas came up to him, squared off with him and the look in his eyes made Dean shut up immediately. He was two inches shorter than Dean, but suddenly Dean felt like he was two feet tall. He also felt terrified for some reason. Dean didn't think he had ever seen Cas look angrier, not even the night that he had pummeled him in the alley.

"You are so weak. You are such a hypocrite. You are a pathetic excuse for a man." Cas hissed.

Cas drew back and punched Dean in the face, knocking him out cold.


	14. Chapter 14

Dean awoke on the couch in the living room, an ice pack on his face. Cas was seated across the room, in the loveseat.

"I'm sorry I put you to sleep." He said morosely. "I did not think I was still that strong. I didn't think I had it in me after the pickles."

"Well, apparently you've still got some super strength. At least when it comes to kicking the crap out of me." Dean muttered, sitting up.

"I apologize. If it makes you feel any better, I had to load you into the car in order to get you back to the house." Cas said weakly.

"It doesn't matter." Dean mumbled.

The right side of his face felt like it had been pummeled with a brick. Clearly Cas wasn't totally out of juice yet.

"Why would you do that, Dean? Why would you summon Crowley? We have Sam and Adam in our grasp… we just have to wait a bit longer... and you summon Crowley, even though you know what he wants to do to me." Cas said.

"I don't know, Cas. I have no idea. It was stupid of me. I just can't stand waiting any more. I don't trust the angels, not after what they've done to us." Dean said weakly.

"He wants to take me to Hell, Dean. He wants to torture me for all eternity. He wants to feed me to demons that would do worse things to me than you can even imagine. Why would you risk that?" Cas asked again, his voice rising.

"Cas, he couldn't just take you. You'd have to make a deal. They can't take a righteous man to Hell without a deal."

"I'm hardly a man! What has happened to me, it's unprecedented! I didn't die, I became human! You don't know what he could do. He's the goddamn King of Hell, Dean!" Cas yelled, standing up from the loveseat..

"He wants your soul bad, Cas. If he could just take it, he would have done it by now. He sure as shit wouldn't trade me Adam and Sam for you." Dean said.

"You're a fool, Dean. Thinking that demons are the path, even after Gabriel came to us on his own volition and swore to get Sam out. You always do this; sacrifice everything for your brother. Except now, you're not just sacrificing yourself, you're sacrificing me. You're sacrificing me, even though you don't have to do so. Do I mean so little to you?" Cas asked.

Dean felt his heart go cold. How could Cas think that? He was the one who had nearly killed Cas for trying to make that very same deal. How could Cas think that Dean would ever consider that? He felt like dying again. He couldn't handle that Cas thought that about him.

"You trust me that little?" Dean whispered.

"I thought I trusted you with my life, my body, heart, and soul. But after that… after seeing Crowley standing in our barn, you pleading for yet another deal, despite everything finally coming together for us after all of that shit, I just don't know." Cas said, shaking his head.

Dean stood up and went over to Cas. He reached for him, but Cas tore away from him and stormed out of the room. Dean thought about chasing after him, but he'd come to realize that sometimes Cas just needed time alone.

"He'll be back." Dean muttered. "He always comes back."

Cas left that afternoon in one of the cars Dean had been working on since they'd moved into Bobby's house. He'd fixed it up so Cas could drive it to and from work and they wouldn't always have to share the Impala. Dean was suddenly regretting that. Cas having a driver's license was nearly as bad as him being able to teleport.

Cas didn't come back for hours. Finally, Dean surrendered and went into town to look for him. Cas had his haunts. He was particularly fond of the library, the park, and the Salvation Army thrift store, where he had purchased three new trench coats. Unfortunately for Dean, Cas wasn't in any of those places. Dean called his cell phone multiple times and got no answer and Dean began to worry. What if Cas had been right about his soul? What if Dean had been wrong and Crowley had gotten angry enough to send demons after him?

Finally, around 11:00 pm, Dean got a text message from Cas. All it said was "Drnku at the Irish Bar. Getting a motel. Im okay. Dont come for me. I need time."

For the first time in months, Dean slept alone and it was horrible. The nightmares were back, and they were there in HD, full-color, almost 3-D. He woke up every hour screaming his head off and Cas wasn't there to convince him that none of it was real. Around 4am, he gave up. He stumbled downstairs to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of whiskey from the liquor cabinet. He sat down at the kitchen table, where he and Cas always ate dinner and had recently engaged in a bout of spontaneous lovemaking, and poured himself a stiff drink.

The little things, the little memories that a simple dining room table evoked, made Dean feel sick with the thought of potentially losing Cas over this, or over anything. The table reminded him of how Cas was always so proud whenever he cooked something edible and how he presented even the simplest dish with grandiosity. He thought about the way his eyes rolled back whenever Dean hit that spot and how ridiculously happy he looked every time Dean walked through the door. He thought about Cas's perpetually chapped lips and five o' clock shadow, and the way he had trusted Dean more than he had trusted anyone during his millennia of existence. Dean thought about how much he loved him, how he loved him more than he thought he could possibly love anyone.

"I can't lose you, Cas. Not ever." He whispered into his glass.

He swallowed the rest of the drink back and poured himself another.

Dean finally went back to bed around 7am, drunk enough to fall into a coma. He awoke the next day, the sun streaming into the window, hurting his eyes. He glanced at his clock. It was 3pm. He glanced next to him and Cas wasn't there.

Dean ambled down the stairs, feeling particularly hungover. He hadn't been drinking heavily since they moved into Bobby's house and suddenly he missed his formerly high tolerance. He wandered into the kitchen and made coffee. As he sat down at that damn dining room table to drink it, Cas wandered into the kitchen. He looked similarly awful and he was still wearing the clothes he'd been wearing the day before. He gave Dean a dark look and went over and poured himself a cup of coffee, then sat next to Dean.

"Rough night?" Dean muttered.

"I drank Jager bombs and a particularly obnoxious blond woman spent the entire night trying to get into my pants. It was unpleasant." Cas grumbled, taking a long sip of coffee.

Dean felt a stab of jealousy, even though he wasn't even sure that Cas was into women in the slightest.

"Nothing happened with her, you moron." Cas snorted, as if he were reading Dean's mind again.

"Good." Dean said.

"Dean, you are truly one of the biggest idiots I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. You're impatient, you kill before you think, you see only in black and white, and you think that it is your job to save everyone around you." Cas said.

Dean stared at him incredulously. "Um, thanks."

"Your martyr complex is infuriating and sometimes I want to kill you." He continued.

"Wow, Cas." Dean said, feeling worse and worse by the second.

"Despite that, as I've told you dozens of times, you have one of the purest, brightest souls I have ever witnessed, and I know that your martyr complex comes from a deep place of love and compassion." He said softly.

"Cas, you know I'd never sell you out to Crowley, right? I mean, come on man, you have to know that. You have to know how I feel about you, after all this time, after everything you and I have gone through these last few months. That wasn't what I was thinking about at all yesterday. It never even occurred to me." Dean said desperately.

"I know." Cas said simply.

"I love you, Cas. Last night, not having you there next to me, knowing that you were angry beyond words with me… I couldn't stand it." He said.

"Dean, you may be an idiot, but you're my idiot." He said begrudgingly.

Dean reached over and took his hand. "And you're my angel." He said, not even caring how fucking cheesy it sounded.

Cas actually laughed a little. "I am not your angel anymore. That's something you have to realize. We're partners, equals now, and I can't save you all of the time. Like you summoning Crowley, my emotions get the best of me. I can't always understand how you think."

"You know you can't keep punching me though." Dean said, semi-seriously.

"And you can't throw lamps at me." Cas countered.

"No deals with demons." Dean finished.

Cas nodded slightly and squeezed his hand. "No deals with demons. From now on, we wait. We deal with the hand we were dealt."

Dean nodded. He wasn't happy about this, but he knew Cas was right. After all, Cas was the only one here who had been an angel and the only one here who had actually dragged someone out of Hell. Cas was also the one and he had to trust him with his life. He had to learn to trust Cas more than some of his more impulsive, ridiculous instincts.

"Then we wait." Dean murmured. "Oh, and Cas? No more making me sleep alone. I don't like it."

Cas actually chuckled again and leaned over and gave him a kiss.

Although Dean promised Cas he would be patient, it grew increasingly difficult as the days stretched into weeks without word from the angels. He could tell it was difficult for Cas too, who confessed that he was terrified of Hell and that he half expected Crowley to pop out and drag him to the pit. Dean now understood why he had been so angry with him. They tried to do everything as normally as they could. Cas even went to his job interview at "that store that sells the lumber" known to the rest of the world as Home Depot. They cooked dinner, Dean worked on the cars in the salvage yard, they drank a lot of bourbon and they watched a few more mobster movies. Their attempts at normalcy didn't make the waiting any less painful.

Finally, exactly two weeks after their initial encounters with Crowley and Gabriel, a familiar face appeared back in their lives. It was a face that Dean had to restrain himself from pummeling.

"Boys! How nice to see you again. A drink? Sure!" Balthazar said.

"Balthazar. How nice of you to drop by. Your last visit was so helpful!" Cas said, trying his hand at sarcasm.

Despite his clear exasperation at seeing Balthazar again, Cas reached over to bottle of bourbon that had been present since the supernatural had reappeared in their lives. He poured Balthazar a cup and handed it to him.

"You have news?" Dean asked anxiously.

That ass better have news with that cocky, presumptuous look on his face. He thought.

Balthazar shot him another look. Dean smiled nervously. He had to remember that angels could read his mind. Cas just rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I do. Although I could stop by for a drink now and then when I'm on this plane visiting Gisele." He said, with a smirk.

"Well?" Cas asked. "Don't leave us sitting here with bated breath."

"Gabriel has succeeded in his task. Dear Sammy will be back in your life soon enough, Dean." He flashed him a smile.

The emotions that came over Dean then were indescribable. He never thought it was possible to feel such an absolute mix of elation, relief and terror. All of his doubts about the angels suddenly melted away from him and he felt absolutely idiotic for summoning Crowley twice. He was a believer again.

"Thank God." He whispered, dropping his face into his hands. "Thank you Balthazar. Thank you Gabriel."

"What about Adam?" Cas asked, making sure to get all of the information out of Balthazar he could this time.

"Although Adam's way was not the way of the new regime, Gabriel, hell, all of us, felt that he was owed a debt too. We will bring back his mother, wipe their memories clean of the Ghoul attack and of their connections to you, and she will be tasked with putting back together what we cannot." Balthazar said, triumphantly, as if he were the one who had made all of this happen.

"He won't know us?" Dean asked, his heart sinking.

"No Dean, he will not. I don't think he would want to, after the literal Hell his connection to the Winchesters caused him." Balthazar said bluntly.

"He's right, Dean. That is the best thing we can all do for Adam. He doesn't need to be a part of this. He's been through enough for us already." Cas whispered to him.

"When will Sammy be back? Where do we need to go? Do we need to go to Kansas, to the cemetery?" Dean asked, standing up, ready to pack his bags or to hop on air Balthazar, or whatever.

"Relax, Dean. He will be here soon. Right here in this living room, as Gabriel promised. He will be in his old body, the same old Sammy with the demon blood that you've always loved to hate." Balthazar said.

"Gabriel is repairing him, isn't he?" Cas asked, since he knew all about rescuing Winchesters from Hell and all.

"As best he can, Castiel. It won't be an easy road for Sammy. He's been through more than any of us can imagine. I only wish I had been able to help you get him out sooner." Balthazar said, admitting to just the slightest amount of wrongdoing.

"That's all that matters, Cas." Dean interjected. "No more fighting, not with Heaven, not with Hell. This is what we have been fighting for and now it's all going to pay off."

"I like this evolution in you, Winchester. Cas, is this your doing?" Balthazar said, raising an eyebrow at him.

Cas didn't get a chance to make another attempt at a quippy comeback, because suddenly Gabriel appeared, holding the unconscious body of his brother.


	15. Chapter 15

"I present to you, the man who saved the world!" Gabriel said, placing a slumped over and sleeping Sam onto the couch. "Now, before I wake him up, please know to give him some space. He can't handle everyone at once. He's… let's just say, he's been through a lot."

"Gabriel. Thank you. Thank you so much. I wish I could say more, because those words don't cover how much gratitude I feel right now." Dean said, happy tears springing to his eyes.

"Thank you, brother." Cas said, trying to sound less giddy than he obviously felt.

"Consider this your debt repaid." Gabriel said seriously. "Adam is with his mother as we speak. His damage was… well, it was not as hard to repair as Sam's, and I know he will be fine. We have done what we can for Sam. The rest is up to you. Castiel, brothers Winchester, I bid you adieu. I hope to not see any of you again for many, many years."

Gabriel bent over and touched Sam on the forehead and then disappeared.

Sam gasped, choked, as his eyes opened and he saw earth for the first time in 50 years. He sat up immediately, his large brown eyes darting from side to side, as if he were trying to get a sense of where he was. His eyes immediately went to Dean.

"Dean." He whispered.

"Sammy!" Dean cried.

Forgetting what Gabriel had said about giving him space, he ran forward and scooped his baby brother up in his arms. He felt Sam hugging him back in probably the tightest hug they'd ever shared. He held Sam for a long time, somewhat in disbelief that he was back. That he was alive. That he remembered Dean and could even speak after what he'd been through.

"We have to stop doing this." Dean whispered through his tears. "Oh God, Sammy, that amazing sonofabitch did it. He brought you back. Oh Sammy."

"How long was I gone?" Sam whispered, his voice cracking a little bit.

"Almost five months, Sammy. Five of the longest months of my life. I am so damn happy to see you, Sammy." Dean murmured.

Finally, he let Sam go. Sam stared back at him, still looking bewildered. Then he saw Cas standing behind them.

"Cas!" Sam yelled, actually standing up. "Holy shit, Cas, did you bring me back? That was you? How are you alive?"

He rushed the ex-angel and literally picked him up off the ground. Cas gasped and the ways his eyes widened as Sam lifted him up nearly made Dean die for the hundredth time because it was so damn funny.

"Ungh. Sam. Ouch. Can't breathe. Airways. Constricted." He gasped.

Sam put him down. "Wait. Airways? What? You breathe? If it wasn't you… then… What the hell is going on?" He turned to Dean. "Did you make a deal?" He yelled.

"No, Sammy. Sit. You just got back from the ride of your life. I didn't make a deal. It was Gabriel who brought you back. God, Sammy I have so much to tell you. But first, Sam, how are you? Like, really." He said.

Sam shook his head and sat down. "I'm in disbelief. One minute… I was there, and then I'm here."

"How are you… feeling?" Cas asked carefully.

"Right, Hell, torture, Lucifer… well, it's there. I can remember it and it is… bad. But it's kind of a haze, almost like it was a bad nightmare, well, the worst nightmare. It hurts, but right now it's an ache instead of roaring, flesh searing pain. Which is weird. It wasn't like that for you Dean, not at all. Shouldn't this be worse?" He said slowly.

"Gabriel, you amazing sonofabitch. I forgive you for all those times you killed me." Dean muttered, staring at the ceiling, into the sky, which for once, actually held some kind of promise.

"What Dean means to say is that he is happy you are not… well… let's just say for now that it could be much worse." Castiel said.

"Wait, Gabriel? The trickster? I thought he was dead. What the hell is going on?" He asked again.

"Sammy, let me get you a drink. In fact, I'll just give you the bottle. There is so much we have to tell you." Dean said.

When Dean and Castiel finished telling Sam about all that had happened in the short four months he was gone, Dean was afraid he might have done his brother in, yet again. He was staring at them in open-mouthed shock.

"So… let me just put this in simple terms, so I can get my head around it. Cas, you're human, well, mostly, anyway. Crowley is in charge of Hell. Heaven had a civil war. Gabriel is alive and is the new head of the pack. Gabriel brought me back and there were no demon deals involved at all. Adam is back with his mom with no memory of any of this. You two are a couple. And finally, I could be a drooling mess, but I'm just me. Dean, you're not hunting anymore and you two live in Bobby's house." He said.

"That about sums it up." Cas said uneasily.

"Bobby?" Sam muttered. "Bobby's dead, isn't he?"

"I'm so sorry, Sam." Cas said.

Sam took a long swig of bourbon. "Is he in Heaven? Can't Gabriel bring him back?" He said. "I mean, he brought me back."

Dean shook his head mournfully. "I'm sorry, Sammy. Bobby is at peace now. That's what they told us. He's with his wife. It's hard for me too, but… he's at peace." He said.

Sam let it all sink in and leaned back against the couch. "God. The things that happen when you're in Hell. It's as if the entire world flips out." He murmured, rubbing his temples.

"But you're back, Sammy." Dean said. "And you're… you. I missed you so goddamn much. You better never get killed again." He reached over for Sam and wrapped him up in another hug. He felt Sam hugging him back gratefully.

"I guess if I do, you'll just bring me back." Sam muttered to him.

"Damn straight." He said into his brother's ear.

Cas did the best thing he could, which was give the brothers some time alone together. He and Sam stayed up the entire night, drinking beers, shooting the shit, regaling each other with stories from their past and generally just making up for lost time. By around 3am, it felt like Sam had never left.

"Assbutt? He called Michael assbutt?" Sam cried, tears of laughter streaming from his eyes. "He called a fucking archangel assbutt before setting him on fire?"

"Yes! Yes! And you… you fucking made him explode. Oh God, Sammy, it was awful. There were like, guts, everywhere. It was fucking disgusting. It's not funny at all, but seriously, some of his last words were 'assbutt', can you fucking believe that?" He said, wiping his eyes.

"Leave it to Cas to utter the most ridiculous shit ever during the apocalypse. Oh my God, I can't believe Lucifer made him explode. Oh man, I need to apologize to him for that. Ugh." Sam said.

"It wasn't you, Sammy. You saved us all. Literally, you saved the world, you saved Heaven, and you changed everything." He said, getting serious for a moment.

"Dean, are you happy?" Sam asked, locking his gaze on him.

"Yeah, man, I am. I mean, those months you were gone… they were no picnic. In fact, there were days that I wished I were down there in the hole with you and Adam. I got through it though. I never thought I could, but I did, and I am happy, yeah. Now that you're back… well, things are pretty much perfect." He admitted.

"What are we going to do, Dean?" Sam asked.

Dean had no idea and that actually didn't bother him for once. He had achieved his ultimate goal, which was to get Sam out of Hell. He hadn't thought too far beyond that point. He did have a few thoughts though.

"I think… I'm going to stay here. At least for now." Dean admitted. "I like it here, Sam. I like working on cars. I like making dinner with Cas. I like this town, this house, and I like the life I've started to build here. What about you?" He said.

"I have no idea. I guess… I could hunt. I kind of want to hunt. I kind of want to go back to school. I kind of want to just stay here and have Cas make me dinner and be weirded out by your relationship. Honestly, I don't know." Sam said.

"No more hunting." Dean said firmly. "At least not for awhile. If you do hunt, it'll be with me. Anything else you want to do though, it's fair game. Your life is yours to live now. We've paid our debt to this world. Can you handle that, Sammy?"

Sam nodded. "I think I can handle that." He said slowly.

Dean made up Sam a place to sleep in the room down the hall from the one that he and Cas shared. He hugged Sam four more times before he turned in and checked on him two more times before actually hitting the hay himself. It was still unreal to him that Sam was here, that his mind was intact, and that he seemed okay with everything that had happened. Was this it? Were they really done fighting?

Dean crawled into bed next to Cas, who immediately reached for him in the dark, which showed Dean that he had been waiting for him for the last six hours. He sighed contentedly and pulled him in close. Cas nestled into his typical spot, his head on Dean's chest.

"How is he?" Cas whispered.

"He's… doing really well." Dean said. "He's the same old Sammy. I can tell it hurts, like the light here is too bright for him after all of that darkness, but it's him, Cas. We did it. We got him out."

"What now?" Cas asked.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Dean said. "I'll tell you what now, Cas. This. Exactly this. This is what I want. I want you next to me every night. I want to see you every morning. I want Sammy to go back to school and meet some nice girl and have lots of nieces and nephews for us to spoil. I want him to be happy and I want us to stay exactly like we are right now."

"I'd like that too." Cas said simply.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cheesy epilogue. Sorry for writing this.

Six months passed and Dean, Sam and Cas went about the day to day messiness of human life. Cas had been correct when he said time and time again that it wouldn't be peaceful, even when Sam got back, but eventually they adjusted to living as normal human beings.

Dean hired a very discreet, very expensive lawyer to run background checks on all their aliases, in order to get the three of them identities so they could actually start leading normal, civilian lives. It was easier for Cas, who was essentially a blank slate and didn't have a criminal record or several faked deaths under his belt. In the end, with their identities wiped clean and their fingerprints altered by a slightly painful angelic procedure courtesy of Balthazar (he owed them); they ended up selecting "Singer" as their last name, which felt like an appropriate homage to Bobby. In private, Dean and Sam would always be the Winchesters.

Things proved to be very difficult for Sam, who had flashbacks and nightmares every night for the first three months he was back. Dean remembered it all too well and took it upon himself to sleep with the door open so he could check on Sam whenever he heard the panicked screaming coming from his room. Staying in one place, having a routine and people around him seemed to help him cope with his memories. He eventually started seeing a therapist, something that Dean had never been able to bring himself to do, but somehow it helped Sam. He never told Dean how he reconciled the truth with the therapist. Around his fourth month back, he started taking online classes, finishing up the last few credits for his political science degree. He was accepted into University of Iowa's College of Law about six years after he was accepted into Stanford's. His LSAT scores were still ridiculously high and he was given a fellowship and nearly a full ride. It was safe to say that Sam's seat as "the smart one" in the Winchester family was all but cemented.

Cas got a job at Home Depot, which became a joke to everyone who passed through the Singer/Winchester house because Cas didn't know the difference between a hammer and a nail. He continued to watch the Food Network nightly though and became convinced he was the next Anthony Bourdain and with his cooking skills, there was a good chance he might be right. Dean continued to work on cars in his spare time and it got around town that Singer Salvage was open for business again. Dean passed himself off as Bobby's long lost nephew and soon enough, he was operating a relatively respectable business.

Sam and Dean talked about hunting again, but it never seemed like the right time for either of them, nor was it what either of them wanted anymore. Dean worked the phones on the weekends, but hunting seemed almost like a side job at this point, and it was a side job he didn't really want. Sam left for school six months after he got back from Hell and watching him drive away in the Honda that Dean had fixed up for him, Dean finally felt a sense of closure.

"From the boy with the demon blood to Lucifer's vessel to becoming a lawyer for the little guy." He murmured to Cas, waving to Sam as he drove off. "That kid has been through more than anyone I know, but look at him. He's off to school with a smile on his face."

"This time he doesn't have to run, Dean. I suspect that's one reason for the smile." Cas said with a smile, hooking his arm around Dean's waist.

"That's a good point. I'm glad Sammy doesn't have to run anymore." He said.

They went into the house, closing the door behind him. Once inside, Dean took the chance he'd been waiting for since Sam had come into the house, eating all of their food and interrupting all of their personal time with gay jokes and kissing noises.

"Oh man, Cas. It is good to finally have some alone time with you. The things I am going to do to you." He whispered.

He wrapped his arms around Cas's waist and pulled him in close. He kissed him deeply, for a very long time. Cas sank into him, kissing him back.

"What do you intend to do, Winchester?" He murmured into Dean's mouth. "Nothing too bad I hope."

Dean bent over and hoisted Cas over his shoulder, who let out a squeal. Working with cars had really done a lot for Dean's upper body and arm strength.

"The kitchen! We can finally do it in the kitchen again!" He yelled gleefully, carrying him through the doorway to their favorite counter.


End file.
